If Life Was Fair
by Estrella Nuvola
Summary: I didn't look back to see if the cloaked man followed. I didn't look back for anything. For if I was caught in the poor district by Muhammed Afzal I'timad, the current ruler of Jerusalem, I would most definitely suffer a fate worse than death. -Ch 13 up-!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is a short start to a, hopefully, great story. I love Assassin's Creed and I'm excited to be writing about it. I'd like to dedicate this story to_ Sparkly-elf, _who inspired me with her fantastic story, _A Stab in the Dark, _which I am still reading. :P Please leave reviews! I welcome them with open arms! But no flaming please, even though I love support and constructive criticism! Enjoy! _

_DISCLAIMER: I OWN ALTAIR! He is mine I tell you, MIIIIINE! Ahhhh! -runs away from the assassins- Okay okay! He's not mine! And neither is the game, Assassin's Creed, DAMN YOU ALL! -pouts- I want Altair..._

* * *

**Those Less Fortunate **

I tried to hurry down the street discreetly, but I was sure I failed miserably. Damn the guards and their perversion. Why did I have to come into the poor district? Oh yeah, because I have a heart, unlike my pig of a father and all his friends. I hate them all.

I turned down a busier street and slowed my pace, hoping to get lost in the ever growing crowd. I didn't dare glance behind me. Not yet. I clutched my dark brown shemgah close to me, making sure nothing but my eyes were visible. Nobody could know who I was. I stopped at a vendor selling cheap jewelry, pretending to browse when I was really looking back the way I came. I stiffened when the five guards who had been following me walked slowly closer, scrutinizing the crowd. They're still looking for me, I realized with a jolt of fear. I was about to turn and leave when one of the sneering guards looked at me and then grinned. Damn. I turned and walked off, my anger slowly rising to cover my fear. The injustice of this city! A lone woman should be able to walk the streets and not worry about being molested by guards. I turned down an alley and, once out of the guards' line of sight, sprinted to the end. No ladder. I ran from one side of the alley to the other and began to scale the wall. A hand grabbed my ankle. Hm. They're faster than I thought.

I landed on the ground with and 'ompf' before jumping to my feet. One of the guards grabbed my arm and tried to throw me against the wall, but I thwarted him by grabbing his wrist and twisting it painfully. Then I decked him. He stumbled back and almost fell into one of the three guards that had formed a human wall to keep me from escaping the alley. I'm much stronger than I look.

"HEY!" he exclaimed roughly. The three standing watch turned to face me and drew their swords. I cursed myself silently. Of all the days to not bring a dagger, this had to be it. I wasn't very good at swordplay, but I was decent enough to protect myself. If there had been one or two less men and none of them had swords, I could take them in hand to hand. But…well, you get the picture. This was not going to end well. 

The guard I had punched rubbed his jaw and sauntered towards me, "Well, well, well, aren't you the feisty one?"

"Well, well, well," I sneered back, "aren't you the ugly one?"

His eyes bulged angrily and his breathing became ragged. Stupid stupid stupid. I just couldn't keep my big mouth shut. Enraging a half-drunk guard with a sword was not the smartest thing to do. My head suddenly jerked back as the fifth guard grabbed my shemgah. I shrieked, frightened they would see my face, and clutched the cloth to me. I'd forgotten about the one behind me, a potentially fatal mistake. I was getting rusty. I reached back and grabbed his wrist, hoping to swing him around into the other man, but the one I'd hit grabbed my free hand and laughed. All fear washed out of me as boiling anger filled my body and mind.

"DAMMIT!" I screamed. The guards blinked at me in shock. "How DARE you men do this! THIS is EXACTLY what is wrong with this God forsaken city! A woman should be able to walk through ANY street, regardless of the District, and not have to worry about being assaulted! This is foolish and MUST be stopped! Do you men have no respect! I swear to all of you, this will stop! I will see to it!" I think I may have stomped my foot. I'm not sure; I was mentally and physically blinded by rage. Yes, that really happens.

"What are you going to do about it, girlie?" One of the guards asked with a chuckle as he grabbed me around the waist.

I seriously thought about ripping off my shemgah then and there, to let them see who they were touching. To let them know how deep in shit they were. I knew their faces. I knew their posts. They were dead meat when I got out of this. 

But. 

If I showed them who I was, everything would be ruined. I could never visit the children at the orphanage or the women at the bazaar. 

So instead, I screamed wordlessly in frustration. Screw the fact that they have swords, I decided, and swiftly kicked the guard I had punched. I caught him square in the groin, causing him to double over. I tried to turn to the other guard but the three keeping watch stepped forward and placed the tips of their blades against my throat. Well, this can't get any worse. A sharp poke in my back told me the guard behind me had his sword out. Scratch that, _now_ it can't get any worse.

"You. Are. Coming. With. Us." The guard, whom I had deemed their leader, literally spat in my face. I glared daggers at him and hoped he rotted in hell. He smirked at me, "I'll gladly go to hell, if you're there with me, sweet-thang."

Oops. I hadn't meant to say that aloud. Stupid again. I was in the midst of trying to figure out what I was going to do when what appeared to be a scholar came down the alley. That's funny, I thought. Why would a scholar be coming down here? I didn't say anything about him, though. I didn't want to speak at all, so I just watched him slowly approach as four of the guards spat profanities at me. I ignored them and watched as the scholar knelt beside the guard still writhing on the floor from my kick to the family jewels. I almost gasped when a blade appeared in his left hand…no, on his _wrist_ and he stabbed the guard in the neck, covering his mouth to keep him silent. I feuded with myself on alerting the guards. What the hell, let him kill them. They deserved it. I just prayed he didn't come after me later on. Strange scholar. 

The cloaked man, which I was soon positive _wasn't_ a scholar, stood and walked up silently behind the 'leader of the pack' that was harassing me. I didn't see what he did, but the guard stiffened and dropped his sword. The remaining guards looked at him curiously as the man slipped behind another of the guards and before the leader fell to the ground, and stabbed him. At least I think that's what he did. I couldn't see. 

The two remaining guards exclaimed and whirled on the cloaked man, who drew out a short sword. This should be interesting. When they were slowly approaching my supposed savior, I grabbed a dagger off one of the dead guards' belts, gripped the hair of a live guard, jerked his head back, and slit hit throat. The white-cloaked man turned to look at me, I think. I couldn't quite tell where he looked; his hood prevented anything but his mouth from being seen. Very suspicious, hm? He turned back to the final guard, who had attempted to take advantage of the cloaked man's temporary distraction by taking a swing. Key word 'attempted'. 

The cloaked man ducked under the sword, punched the man in the gut, and then brought his own blade down in a swinging arch, slicing into the base of the guard's neck. He collapsed in a spray of blood, which the 'scholar' easily dodged, keeping his robes immaculate. He bent and cleaned the bloodied blade on one of the guards shirt and then turned to me.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, husky voice. I looked the fallen guards and then the dagger in my hand, crestfallen. More lives lost because of stupidity.

"Yes, I suppose." I sighed and dropped the dagger. The man waited a moment and I blinked at him.

"I'm waiting for you to go into shock, or something." He stated bluntly. I smiled and shook my head.

"No, sir, I won't be going into shock. I've seen a lot worse than this. I'm mostly…disappointed with the system here in the Poor District." I sighed again and stepped away from the bodies and closer to the man, "Thank you very much for saving me."

"Of course." He said and nodded, "Though you seemed to handle this very well." 

I opened my mouth to respond but he cocked his head and then ran over and up the side of the building. I stared after him and felt my anger returning. Following, I quickly scaled the wall and saw him running to the end of the building. "HEY!" I called after him, "Get back here!"

He stopped at the edge of the roof and turned to me. I stormed over to him. How rude can you get? "What is your problem?" I demanded, while internally cursing my tongue. I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. Mother always said that I need to learn to think before speaking. "You just walk away when I'm in the middle of conversing with you?"

"You scaled that wall very well…" he murmured, completely ignoring my questions, "And you speak as if you belong to a higher class than that of the poor district. But your clothes indicate you are not wealthy."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious, _sir_." I hissed, "Who are you?"

He didn't say anything. Just stared, I think, at me. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to respond. For about a minute we stood and just stared at each other. Eventually, however, I grew weary of his game and I rolled my eyes, turning to leave, "Forget it, I'm leaving. You're probably insane, anyway." I began to walk away, mumbling to myself, "Who runs around on rooftops anyway?"

"Indeed. I was going to ask you the same." His husky voice floated over to me. I turned sharply and glared at him, almost jumping in surprise when I noticed he had moved up next to me, silently.

"Oh, _now_ you'll talk." I laughed bitterly. "Will you also give me your name?"

"No." he said simply, his lips twitching as if fighting a smile. I sighed angrily and turned to go again, my anger slowly fading and a twinge of fear beginning to grow. This man was dangerous and I need to get away. My anger had clouded my judgment, as usual. I nodded curtly and turned away, marching proudly across the roof to where I could see a ladder. Ladders are a girl's best friend.

"So." The man said, suddenly beside me. I couldn't help but jump this time. He smiled and I shot him a glare that said 'if looks could kill'. His smile faded, though there was still a trace of it on his dark, full lips, "Will you give me your name?"

I laughed at him, "Of course not! You would not give me yours." 

It was chance that I happened to look past him and into the streets, where I saw a parade of guards and livery. In the center, was a tall, aging man on a bay gelding, dressed in the finest of clothes. He was scrutinizing the crowds, as were the guards surrounding him. I swore loudly and turned away from the cloaked man, not waiting for him to say more. I _had_ to get away from there. I sprinted to the edge of the roof and leapt across the dark alley to the next roof. I didn't look back to see if the man on the horse had seen me. I didn't look back to see if the cloaked man followed. I didn't look back for anything. For if I was caught in the poor district by Muhammed Afzal I'timad, the current ruler of Jerusalem, I would most definitely suffer a fate worse than death.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Okay, this chapter is better, I think. I was in a mood to write. Enjoy, my luscious readers._

_DISCLAIMER: I so don't own Assassin's Creed or any of its characters, though I do wish I had Altair, that yummy hunk of man-meat. -cuddles Altair- My assassin! -blink- What? Not mine?? Damn… _

* * *

**Arrangements **

I walked casually towards the imposing palace, doing my best to look inconspicuous. It worked, as usual, and I slipped past the guards and made my way around to the back of the large wall surrounding the palace, where I scaled the high wall with the help of ivy and crumbling mortar. Once on top, I quickly dropped to the ground, rolling on impact to keep myself from getting injured. As soon as I was on my feet, I was sprinting again, my destiny being a small balcony at the back of the palace several stories up. I stopped before the balcony and looked up at it, squinting in the harsh light of the setting sun.

"_Biyya_!" I hissed. When no response came I tried again, "_Biyya!" _

I waited and waited, but still nothing. Damn that woman. I told her to be listening for me. Once again, my anger clouded my judgment and I bellowed up at the balcony, "BIYYA!"

Seconds later a face poked out from the balcony for a few seconds, then disappeared. I impatiently waited, arms crossed over my chest and foot tapping. Soon enough, a long rope ladder was dropped down to me, which I climbed as quickly as I could. Once at the top, I helped the matronly woman draw the ladder back up before anyone could see. I took it from her and placed it in a small compartment hidden in one of the planters on the balcony.

"Child!" I heard her call from behind me. I turned and blinked at her, "What are you doing, screaming for me like that! Someone else could have heard you."

"But they didn't." I said before turning and walking into the adjoining room, brushing past the soft red and gold curtains. I stripped off my brown wool overdress and threw it haphazardly under the enormous, gold quilted bed along with the shemgah and sandals, leaving me in a tight, sleeveless undershirt and think pants. I turned to see Biyya holding out a beautiful green dress and silver shemgah, which I gracefully accepted and began to put on.

Biyya, called Jathibiyya by all but me, has been around as long as I can remember. I think she was my nurse and was nanny, teacher, and is now my 'servant'. I don't make her do much, seeing as I'm so independent and stubborn, but I love to have her around. Though she is nearly fifty and served as my mother most of my seventeen years, she is more of a sister to me than anything. Many nights we have stayed up late, gossiping about men and other silly topics. She helps me slip out of the palace and away from my cursed noble duties to spend time with those who need it, just like today. If my father, God forbid, found out what she lets me get away with, she would be out on the streets before you can say Allah jisallim aklak (1).

She is kind, and very beautiful despite her age. Standing at almost six feet tall, Biyya has long, chocolate brown hair that falls in waves about her face, now more grey than brown, however. She is a bit on the heavy side, but I think it makes her more cuddly. Her soft appearance, though, is contradicted by piercing grey eyes that portray her intelligence and wisdom. High cheekbones, a full lower lip, and arching eyebrows complete the ensemble, and I wonder everyday why she works as my servant instead of being off, married to some wealthy merchant with children. Biyya would make a wonderful mother, because she was one to me. And she could have had any man she wanted; from what I know, she came from a relatively wealthy family and moved to work at the palace when she was young. Over many years, she had counless suitors, but turned them all down. Why she did this, I'll never know. I've asked her before, but she will not speak of it.

There was a sharp rap at the door and I hurriedly tucked my hair beneath the shemgah before nodding to Biyya, who smiled and went across the room, avoiding the mass of cushions and pillows in the middle, to open the door. It was my mother. Great. She strode into the room, head held high. My mother wore on my every nerve.

She was short, unlike me, standing at just over five feet, with long blond hair and dark blue eyes. Fair, soft skin along with the rest of her fae-like features gave away that she was not native to Jeruselam, and perhaps from no where near the city. I looked nothing like her, having shoulder-length, straight brown hair, dark green eyes, and rich, dark skin. I also stood at about five feet, seven inches. However, my mother intimidated me. I had been raised to obey my parents. Always. No matter what. My mother over everyone but my father. He was the head honcho. God, I hated him.

"Lamya Nadra I'timad." She said shortly and stopped less than a foot away from me. Uh-oh. It was never a good sign when she used my full name. I waited for her to continue. She sniffed, "Where were you all afternoon?"

"Walking around the palace grounds." I lied instantly, never breaking eye contact but being careful not stare at her too intensely. I had pretty much perfected the art of lying to my parents. She glared at me for a long time.

"I have a feeling you are not telling me the entire truth, but I will believe you for now. Hurry and wash up, though, Father is having an important guest for dinner and you are expected in _five _minutes, understand?" She raised an eyebrow at me under her dark blue shemgah before covering her mouth and nose with the soft fabric, and leaving abruptly, not even waiting for my response. She knew I had to listen. Or else.

"Damn…" I sighed and flopped down onto the cushions in the center of my large room. It was my favorite spot; a sunken oval large enough to fit several people that was full of cushions and pillows of various shape, size, color, and squishiness. Thin fabric hung from the ceiling and fell in a twist of semi-transparent gold and red around the area, and could be pulled to any part of the circle, closing it off or making a single wall. I loved it and usually could relax when lounging amongst the pillows, but not tonight.

"Lamya." Biyya said with a sigh as she slipped into an adjacent room to get some water, "Watch your language."

I snorted, "Not tonight, not now. You know as well as I that when Father has a 'dinner guest' over, it will be another stupid suitor for me."

"I understand that, dear." She said with a sigh, returning to the main room with a small basin, which she set at my vanity. With a single finger, she beckoned me, and I went to her, "Are you going to try another of your schemes?"

I sat down at the vanity and removed my cursed shemgah so I could properly wash my face, allowing Biyya to apply a bit of color to my cheeks and black liner to my eyes. I glanced up and stared into her grey eyes with my own green ones through the mirror, water dripping off my face, "Of course I am."

* * *

I entered the vast dinning hall as close to the set time as possible. And because it was me and I _really_ didn't want to be there, I was late. But just by a few minutes. No more than fifteen, I swear.

I walked in, earning death glares from my father and mother. I was shocked that there were only three people sitting at the end of the large table. Normally we dined with at least ten other important members of court or society or whatever, but nope. My father was across from my mother and next to a man I had never met before. The only other place that was set just so happened to be across from the man. How convenient.

I marched over, grabbing a pear from one of the tables by the door on my way, and tossed it up in the air before sitting down. I caught it, pulled my shemgah down roughly and took a barbaric chomp out of the pear, leaning an elbow against the table. I chewed loudly, letting the juices run down my chin. I inclined my head to the man and said, with a full mouth, " 'ello." God I'm a bitch.

The man smiled, his lips twitching. Then he started laughing, where as my parents looked horrified. My father, with his neat, dark brown hair and hazel eyes, looked like he was going to get an aneurism. That made me almost laugh. What a dream come true _that_ would be.

"She is something else." The mad said in a rich voice before breathing slowly as his laughter subsided. I slowly stopped chewing and scrutinized him. I'd tried this once before on an older man come to court me, and he'd stood up immediately, claiming illness or something. The next morning he was gone and nobody knew when he'd left. My father was infuriated. I was having hysterics. But this man was different. He watched me closely with black eyes that sparkled from the depths of this strongly featured face. The sharp cheekbones, strong nose and chin were almost too much, leaving him on the cusp of either very handsome or disturbing. I couldn't decide which. He leaned forward and offered his hand, palm up to me, "I am Ghalib Amir, and I am pleased to meet you."

I blinked and stared at his hand, getting a sudden image of me spitting in my own hand then grabbing and shaking his hand vigorously. That would be great. My father cleared his throat and I realized if I did that, I wouldn't live to see morning, and I'm not exaggerating. So I placed my hand, sans pear juice, into Ghalib Amir's. Everyone sat for a minute and stared at me. The man holding my hand raised an eyebrow at me and smiled.

"Oh! Yeah." I said with a start, then added none too enthusiastically, "I am honored to meet you, Ghalib Amir."

He dropped my hand and put it in my lap before taking another bite of the pear, not bothering to be gruesome this time. My eyes narrowed as I watched Ghalib, who turned to my father, thanking him for having him at the palace. I blocked out the pleasantries and my mother's hissed reprimands for spoiling my dinner with the pear.

Who was this man? I didn't often pay attention to politics, but I usually recognized the name of the man my father brought in to attempt to auction me off to. However, this man I had never heard of. My father had never mentioned him, that I was sure of. I did try to pay attention whenever my father mentioned a man's name around me, for it usually meant he would try to marry me off to them. After learning the name, I dig up information on them and sometimes can even find out what disgusts them the most. Like this one man, Izz Al Din. He was a fairly attractive man with a lot of money and a pompous attitude. And he absolutely _loathes_ the smacking of lips. So, naturally, all dinner I smacked my lips loudly. He left the next day at noon.

"Lamya!" my father's voice cut through my thoughts and I blinked at him. Hm…the food has been served and I hadn't even realized it. I'm more bored than I thought. I glanced lazily at my father. He was angry, "Pay attention, girl."

"Sorry." I said monotonously. His eyebrows narrowed.

"Pay attention to our guest." He hissed. I nodded and looked at my companion expectantly.

"I was wondering if you would take me on a ride through your city tomorrow." Ghalib asked softly and smiled, "I am from Damascus and hate to admit that I have never been to Jerusalem, so it would be an honor if you could show me around."

Um…no, was what I wanted to say, but I stopped. It wasn't my father's expression that said, do it or die, that stopped me. It was that I could show him how my father was destroying the city. And I could behave like a hooligan, which was always fun. I would do whatever it took to get this man away from me. I was not going to marry him. I was not going to marry anyone. Honestly, I hate men. They are all arrogant, overconfident slime-balls that think they are better than women. Personally, I think women are perfectly capable of doing anything a man can. Look at me; I can outride any of the guards in the city, including most of the wretched Templar. Don't ask how I tested that. Plus I can fire an arrow farther and more accurately than anyone I know.

All my life my father has put me down along with his idiotic friends. Because of them and the rest of the male species and how they treat me and women in general, I hate them. And I will _never_ marry one.

* * *

That night I snuck down the hallway towards my father's study, where I was sure he would be discussing my demise, I mean marriage, with Ghalib. With my stupid skirt bunched up, I slipped silently down the cold hallways towards my parent's wing. Yes, they had a wing all to themselves. Arrogant bastards. The one good thing about that, is that my room is far away from them, which made me very happy. My room was originally at the front of the palace, overlooking the city, but I had decided a change of scenery would be good a few years ago, and had moved to a room at the back. This had been a massive improvement for me, giving many opportunities for me to sneak out.

I stopped outside the thin door to my father's study, ever thankful that he spoke loudly and that nobody ever patrolled this particular hall. Pressing my ear against the crack where the door met wall, I listened adamantly to what was being said.

"…and even after, you would let me rule?" my father asked in his gruff voice.

"Of course." Ghalib responded. It was difficult to understand him completely, because of his soft voice, "I just…the city. And full…of the…"

"Yes, yes." My father boomed, "Of course, that would be excellent. I will get a cut of it though, right?"

Ghalib said something in reply, but I couldn't hear it. Damn his quiet voice! What were they talking about? It didn't sound like it had too much to do with me. It sounded like they were talking about trade agreements or something profitable. I frowned, curious for once about what sort of politics they could be discussing. Of course, now that I thought about it, they _could _be talking about me. After all, Father said '…even after, you would let me rule', which seems to imply that he wants to continue ruling after I marry. Hm. Personally, I would love to rule over the people of Jerusalem. I'm not power hungry, that's not it at all. I just want to make a difference in the world and in the lives of my people, for they are, after all, _my_ people. But because I am a woman and just the daughter of the current ruler, there is nothing I can do to influence any change of how he people are treated. I had been trying for the past God knows how many years to fix what my father had broken.

Chairs scraped suddenly and footsteps approached the door. I scrabbled away from the study and behind a tapestry, into a tiny alcove I had discovered years ago. There I stood, perfectly still and silent, when Father and Ghalib came out of the study, laughing at some joke I missed.

"I thank you again, for coming, Ghalib." My father said tiredly, "And now, shall I escort you back to your room?"

"No, no. That won't be necessary." Ghalib responded, "You seem tired, so go and rest. I would like to walk through the gardens anyway and think."

"Very well." Father said shortly. "I will see you in the morning."

"Indeed, my lord." There was a swishing of cloaks as, I'm guessing, Ghalib Bowed. I heard his footsteps fade into the distance and then silence. What about Ghalib? Did he leave without me hearing? For several minutes I stood pressed against the wall, breathing as slowly and quietly as possible. After five minutes I was sure Ghalib was gone. I was about to relax when the tapestry was jerked to the side and none other than Ghalib himself gazed at me with one brow cocked. I sighed and stepped out. I hate being caught. He smiled at me, "Well, well. What do we have here?"

I peered up into his face and realized he couldn't be much older than me. How one became successful enough to potentially marry someone of my social standing at such a young age was beyond me. Not that I cared. I just found it curious. "I like corners." I said stupidly, hoping for him to think I was insane. "They're fun."

"I'm sure," he laughed, "that was your reasoning for being in there."

I just stared at him silently.

"You were trying to listen in on us, weren't you?" He asked. I turned and walked away, padding silently down the hall on bare feet.

"Fine. I was." I admitted, "But I couldn't hear anything. I just wanted to hear you two plotting my death."

Ghalib was suddenly beside me and touched my arm. I looked over at him and he actually looked…concerned. "Your death?" he asked softly, "My dear, we were most certainly _not_ discussing your death."

I sighed. I am rarely truthful with anyone, especially someone who had the potential to be my future husband, "Marriage, death, it's one in the same, to me. Listen, Ghalib." I started, letting the 'innocent and stupid child' façade slide away, "I am going to be completely honest with you; I do not, under any circumstances, want to marry you. I am not _going_ to marry you. So you might as well pack up and go home."

He laughed at me. _Laughed_. Placing a hand on my arm with a grin, he chuckled, "What on Earth makes you think I'm here to marry you?"

I opened my mouth and then closed it. Frowning, I realized I had no premise to go on assuming he was here to marry me. I had just automatically figured that was the reason for him being here. And suddenly I knew I was being an idiot. A new merchant or something of the sort from Damascus comes to Jerusalem to speak with the ruler. He probably just wanted to open up trade here and get to know the city. I, of all people, had been selfish thinking every man my father invited over was meant to marry. Yes, all the other times that had been true, but I was wrong this time. Right? Something wasn't right.

"Sorry." I said stupidly and continued on my way. He kept walking beside me and I basically ignored him as I thought. I still wasn't assured that this man wasn't here for one of my father's schemes, whether it be my marriage or some way for him to get money. My gut was telling me all was not as it seemed.

"Lamya." Ghalib said. I stopped and looked at him. This must be his room, I thought, seeing as his had is on the knob. He bowed gracefully to me, "Have a good night."

"The same to you." I said absently before continuing down the hall to my own room. There was a feeling of dread in my heart, a feeling that said this would be another sleepless night for me. Too many thoughts were blurring through my mind. What was going on? And how could I figure it out? What was I going to do with my ride through the city tomorrow with Ghalib? And, most importantly, how would I sneak out tomorrow night, for it was the Summer's Day Festival in the Poor District, and every year I attended. Somehow, it seemed like a more difficult task for me to sneak out tomorrow than any other year. Well, there was no way I was missing the festival. I was going, no matter what. I just hoped my father wouldn't find out; he would most likely beat me to death.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, totally lame ending to the chapter, in my opinion, but it's late and I'm exhausted. I have an AP Calculus exam tomorrow, so I need to study that. I was eager to get this chapter finished, so…yeah. Bam. R&R please! The next chapter should be…interesting. :P _

(1) Arabic for: Allah help you (your brain), that you won't loose it all.


	3. Chapter 3

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A/N: Yay! Chapter three. :P Thanks for the support so far, no matter how little. I love all of you what leave reviews, or even just read this. Please please please review, whether it is praise or suggestions, I love reviews! YAY ME!

_DISCLAIMER: Assassin's Creed…hm…perhaps they'll let me buy them out for –counts money in pocked- seven dollars and twelve cents? Maybe? No? Damn…fine. I guess I'll never own it, or Altaїr. –cry- _

* * *

**Recognitions**

The next morning I begged Biyya to bring my breakfast up to my room. After several minutes of me pleading a headache, she complied and left. While I waited I bounced on the bed like a five year old, cutting flips and rolling around. What can I say? I was bored and restless, but did _not_ want to go down and see my parents or Ghalib, despite what he claimed. A teeny part of me still felt he was here go marry me, which was _not _going to happen.

Biyya soon returned, a tray laden with fruits, tarts and water in her hands. I squealed happily, seeing may slices of my favorite fruit; MANGO! I snatched the tray from Biyya, balancing it in one hand, grabbed her wrist and dragged her into my sunken seating area. "Eat with me."

"Fine." She sighed and plopped down beside me, selecting an apple. Ugh. She could have all of those. I hate apples. They make my mouth and throat feel funny. We sat in silence as she ate apples and the little purple grapes and I ate all the mangoes, green grapes, and most of the tarts. I have a big appetite. Eventually, Biyya nudged me, "So, what do you think of Ghalib?"

I swallowed, "Not sure yet. He says he isn't here to marry me but I don't buy it. There's something fishy in the air, and I don't like fish."

Biyya laughed, "Ah, but you have to take him through the city soon."

I laid back on the pillows and closed my eyes. Mm…I need a hot bath. "Yeah, but—" I bolted upright and stared at the older woman, "What do you mean, _soon_?"

"Your father said that in an hour you had to escort Ghalib through the city."

"An hour!?" I squeaked and jumped up, "I haven't even bathed yet!"

"Relax." Biyya said casually, waving her hand. "I've already drawn a bath. It's heating up right now."

"Oh." I said stupidly and sat down again. Biyya laughed and when I glared at her she cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward.

"Considering you do not want to marry this man, you certainly seem concerned about your appearance." She said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. How dare she!

"I do _not_ care what he thinks about me!" I scoffed, "It's just that Father will slaughter me if I look a wreck and I plan on taking that idiotic prick to the Poor District, and I want to look decent for _my people._"

Biyya was laughing very hard now, wiping tears from her cheeks. She was _fooling_ with me. I stood angrily, sticking my nose in the air, "Fine. Be that way. _I'm _taking a bath."

* * *

Forty minutes later I waited in the palace stables, petting my black mare, Abital. That man was taking damn near forever to get down here. I leaned my back against Abital's withers and sighed, adjusting my stupid skirt. If I could run around in pants all day, I would be the happiest girl alive. This skirt was alright, I guess; Long and red, split down the front and sides to make it easier to ride. I had black pants underneath and leather riding boots. My long-sleeved shirt that matched the skirt wasn't too comfortable, and neither was the black shemgah. I hate shemgahs. Just let me run free, thank you very much.

_Finally_ I heard footsteps and the clank of armor approaching the stables. I wanted nothing more than to get this ridiculous ride over with. Ghalib and several guards entered the stables, silent as the night. Oh, this was _not_ going to be fun. Though, I will admit Ghalib looked…dashing in a dark blue robe, white pants, and light leather boots.

"Are you ready, dear?" He asked me with a smile. I crossed my arms over my chest and frowned. When he looked confused I sighed. I hate having to spell things out for people.

"No offense, _sir_," I said curtly, "but I don't feel you know me well enough to call me 'dear'. So if you don't mind, call me by my name."

"Very well." He replied slowly, eyes narrowed. One of the stable-hands led a bay over and handed the reins to Ghalib. He took them in his hands without breaking eye contact with me. That's fine. If it's a staring contest he wants, then by God he'll get one. I smiled wickedly and settled back against Abital more comfortably. I could hear the guards shifting uncomfortably as the minutes ticked by. I cocked my head and refused to look away. I'm entirely too stubborn for my own good.

Ghalib cleared his throat and turned away, "Um, shall we go then?"

I smiled triumphantly, "Yes, I think that would be wonderful." Still grinning, I gracefully mounted Abital, waiting while he slowly clambered onto the bay's back. I frowned. Why did that look so odd? To all appearances, Ghalib wasn't a skilled rider but…it almost seemed put on. Could he be playing an act of an inexperienced rider? That seemed bizarre and useless, but if it just so happened to be true, why would he need, let alone want, to do that? I was still frowning when he rode up beside me with a weak smile, indicating for me to lead on.

I led Ghalib and the ever exasperating guards through the wealthiest parts of the city first, pointing out the houses of those I knew to be important, and sometimes just making up people for the sake of it. I started a game with myself, coming up with the most fanciful and preposterous stories about some of the older buildings, telling Ghalib that so-and-so had killed themselves by jumping off the roof here and that what's-her-face encountered Satan himself at that abandon shed over there. I was thoroughly amused and Ghalib seemed interested in the city. Hurray for him.

"Would you like to ride out and see the beauty of the wilderness that surrounds Jerusalem?" I asked casually as we reached the outskirts of the Rich District. I hoped he said yes; I wanted to take him to one of the main exits, on the other side of the Poor District.

"That sounds splendid." Ghalib answered, sounding a bit weary. I grinned and urged Abital forward. Excellent! I thought, let him see how my father ignores the needs of our people. Let him see what an awful place Jerusalem had become after my father began to rule.

The citizens of the Poor District, however, seemed perfectly at ease today. I had stupidly forgotten that tonight was the Festival, so everyone was bustling about in preparation. The abuse and neglect was ever present, though. But the bright moods of the people seemed to damper the negative effects of the cursed Poor District. I felt like pouting. This was _not_ what I wanted Ghalib to see. Oh well. I guess it was still up to me to make a difference.

As we were nearing the main gates, several children ran up to my horse with necklace woven of flowers. The guards surged forward but I waved my hand at them and dismounted, kneeling to let the children put the necklaces on. They didn't recognize me in my 'fancy clothes', but it didn't matter. I tried to ride through every district at least once a week, so the people knew I was friendly. I played a quick hand game with one of the boys and exclaimed over one of the girls' doll. I could feel eyes on my back the entire time, but I ignored whoever it was. Ghalib, I guess. His strange eyes would make anyone's hairs stand on end. Eventually, I couldn't stand the staring so I glared over my shoulder at the man who 'wasn't' courting me. He was looking in the opposite direction, talking to one of the guards. And I still felt the eyes on my. A shiver ran down my spine and I stood slowly, scanning the flow of people around me. I saw nothing but merchants, mothers, wives, men, beggars, a scholar, and—wait. My eyes flicked back to the scholar as one of the children tugged on my hand.

The scholar, clad in all white, was walking very slowly with head bowed over his clasped hands. He would pass me soon. It was odd that he wore gloves and gauntlets. And when he got a smidge closer, I realized who he was. I recognized him as the strange man that had helped me get away from the cursed guards. He walked slowly behind the children, keeping them between myself and him. I caught a glint of his eyes as he passed and he paused for a fraction of a second before continuing on his way. I watched him go, confused. Who on Earth was he? And I realized with another shudder that he had been the one watching me, for after he passed I no longer had the feeling of being watched. I was actually freaked out for once. Having seen what that man had did so effortlessly, killed so naturally for someone he didn't know, left me frightened. Could he be an assassin? That thought made me slip away from the children and back on to Abital. Assassins were not good. Father had mentioned a secret bureau for assassins somewhere in the city, but he had never been able to find them.

"Ready?" Ghalib drawled. I glanced back at him and felt the pressure of being watched again. Shit. Either I was paranoid or that man was watching me again.

"I'm not feeling well." I mumbled, "Perhaps we should go back, I don't know if I'm up for a ride in the country."

"Of course," Ghalib said, perking up, "We shall head back immediately. I would hate for you to fall ill."

I nodded and turned away, the tightness in my shoulders not relaxing until I was back within the palace walls, where I hurried up to the safety of my room.

* * *

I laid down for a nap as soon as we returned from our ride. I was tired and wanted to have as much energy for the Festival as possible. Pleading illness earlier had turned out to be a very helpful tactic; Biyya told everyone to leave me be and let me rest until morning, and we'd go from there. So I would be left alone, and free, until tomorrow. I was a happy girl.

Of course.

There was still the disturbing fact that the strange man from yesterday had been watching me. His gaze had been, intense, and it was all made worse because I could not see his eyes. As I thought about it, however, I pushed aside my fears, telling myself that I was being silly. I was a noble, border-line royal, woman riding through the streets of the Poor District and playing with orphans. That is definitely a sight worth a stare or two. So how could I blame him? And it probably wasn't even the same man as yesterday.

Two hours before sunset, I bathed and fixed my hair, dressing in my plainest outfit; a dark blue disdasha and shemgah with terracotta flowers embroidered on the hem. It would still be fancier than most of the clothes I'd see that night, but it was the best I could do. I tucked the shemgah over my face and motioned Biyya to follow me. She complied with a huff as I retrieved the rope ladder from its hiding spot and went out onto the balcony. Biyya took the ladder from me and secured it as I climbed nimbly up onto the railing.

"Lamya." She said, grabbing my arm. I turned my head and watched her expectantly, "Be careful. Please."

"Of course." I smiled, patting her hand. Then I clambered down the ladder, not waiting to watch Biyya pull it back up.

I sprinted to the wall and ran up it, grabbing onto the ivy. I hauled myself up and over the tall barrier, landing with an 'ompf' on the other side. After making sure my shemgah was secure, I hurried down the road to the Poor District.

* * *

The usually dreary and dirty Poor District was now bright and festive. Traditional music blared from every corner as the residents explored the streets in their finest clothes. I slipped anonymously through the crowd, pausing to watch a performance or browse through the wares of a vendor occasionally. My current destination, however, was on the outskirts of the Poor District; the Archery Competition.

Every year I entered the contest under a false name and smoked them all. I had to be careful, however, for sometimes a guard from the palace would be there and if I was careless, he would recognize me. This year, however, nobody I recognized was there. I smiled and approached the little stand to sign up.

The older man sitting on a stool with parchment and quill gazed up at me. "What can I do ye for, miss?"

"I would like to sign up for the Archery Competition." I said sweetly, changing my voice a bit. "Put me down as Fatin, please sir."

He blinked at me and then smiled, recognizing the name, "So." He drawled as he wrote down my name, "You grace us with yer presence another year, Fatin."

"Yup." I grinned through the shemgah, "Stick around and watch, Na'im. I'd love your support."

"I will." He laughed and I walked off to the little booth that held various bows to select my weapon. I chose a short bow that was fairly stiff. They shot farther. I grabbed a string of hemp and went to wait with the other contestants, who were all male, might I add.

"Is that you, Fatin?" One of the men sitting at the two large benches called. I laughed and stopped before him, aware of several pairs of eyes on me; most of the men here were new to the contest and never thought a woman would join.

"Yes. Are you prepared to lose again, R'ad?" I teased before sitting down beside him.

"Hush, woman!" he scoffed and then grinned. He was one of the kindest men I knew, with soft brown hair and matching eyes. Despite being about six and a half feet tall and broad in the shoulders, he was the gentlest person I knew. He poked me playfully, "I am going to beat you this year."

"You wish." I said with a sniff.

And then Sa'di, the ring leader of this little operation, stepped forward to address the ever growing crowd. As he explained that we would compete to win part of the money and goods they put in as a bet, I quickly strung my bow, earning several whistles of appreciation from the men around me. Like I sad; I'm stronger than I look.

R'ad was the first to go. He stepped up to the marker, knocked an arrow, and took a deep breath, staring at the target that was about fifteen yards away. After every yard, the marker was moved back five yards. The two people farthest from the bull's-eye were eliminated. Also, if you missed the target completely, you were eliminated. I sat up straighter and whistled encouragement as R'ad aimed and drew the arrow back. The crowd fell silent, the only sounds being those of the distant crowd and music. I tensed up, hoping he didn't miss, though I knew he wouldn't. There was a 'thwap' followed immediately by a 'thump' and R'ad grinned. I cheered along with the crowd when the arrow came within an inch of the center of the bull's-eye.

The rest of the men followed the same pattern, one man missing the target by at least two feet. I don't think he'd ever held a bow and arrow before in his life. Two men got very close to the bull's-eye, almost as close as R'ad. Three were about two inches from the red center, and the man before me hit in almost the same spot as R'ad. I was next, and I marched up to the marker, waving into the crowed as catcalls and whistles erupted everywhere. I sighed and shook my head. Every year…

I tuned them out and stood firmly, gripping the arrow. No sooner had I planted my feet did I swing the bow up, knock the arrow, draw in fire, all in one rapid motion. The arrow lodged itself in the absolute dead center of the target. The crowd cheered louder than they did for anyone else so far. I bowed lavishly before strutting back to my seat by R'ad. Okay, so I show off a bit. Give me a break, will ya?

"That was excellent, as always, Fatin." R'ad said with a grin as the final man took his place at the marker.

"What can I say?" I shrugged, "I've found my forte."

R'ad laughed, "Indeed you have, child."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, swatting him playfully, "Don't call me child! You're only a few years older than me, after all."

"Ah," he countered with a twinkle in his eyes, "But I'm still older."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the final man when the crowd cheered loudly. His arrow had also hit dead center. So I had a challenger. Superb.

Two rounds later, with the marker set at twenty-five yards, R'ad, the man that went after me, and I were the only ones left. The rules changed now, and the one person who got farthest from the center was finished. Then the final two would battle it out. So far, Al Diar had been hitting close to dead center, just like me. I had a feeling it'd be us two in the finals.

"You can do it, R'ad." I purred from behind my shemgah and batted my eyes at my friend as he stood. I swear he blushed before ducking his head and jogging over to the marker. I wasn't sure though. Surely I couldn't make a man blush just with words and my eyes.

R'ad stood tall and proud before aiming steadily and shooting the arrow. He hit dead center. The crowd went wild and I gaped a bit before jumping up and clapping furiously. R'ad had never won the competition in his life, even before I joined and just watched. He ran back over to Al Diar and me with a wide grin.

"Great job!" I cried as he scooped me up in a hug and twirled me around.

"Thanks!" he panted and leaned in close, "I'd give you a kiss if you'd take that stupid shemgah off."

I leaned back and gave him a level look. He'd been trying to get me to take my shemgah off every year. I'm sure he knew something was up, for I would never, _could_ never take it off. I cannot fathom what he would think if he knew who I was. So everything would have to stay as is, "I appreciate the offer, but it's staying on, R'ad." I poked him, "You'll just have to dream and fantasize."

He swatted my arm as I skipped off to the marker, confident that I could hit the same as R'ad. I did, after more concentration than the first time. I wanted to win. It's not that I wanted the prizes, I always gave half to R'ad and then the rest to the children at the orphanage; I just wanted to accomplish something all on my own. Something my parents could not stop me from doing.

I sat back down with R'ad as Al Diar took his place and _also_ hit the dead center. R'ad and I gasped and wondered what would happen. Sa'di announced that the three of us would continue until one was eliminated. So we did.

Seven rounds later I stood at the marker gazing at the target seventy yards away. I only had to hit somewhere in the bull's-eye, since R'ad's had hit just on the edge of it. I aimed and fired, the arrow sinking into the target an inch into the red. I skipped back over to the two men as the crowd roared. I wished Al Diar luck aloud while silently hoping he would miss or mess up. I wanted it to be R'ad and me in the finals; that had never happened before.

Al Diar's arrow went wide and hit the target about two inches from the bull's-eye. While he pouted, R'ad and I jumped up and down in each others arms, squabbling like excited children. We both ran up to the marker as Al Diar shuffled off. R'ad stepped back, insisting the 'lady go first'. I gave him a dirty look before stepping forward and aiming carefully from seventy-five yards away. I let loose the arrow and jumped for joy when it hit the bull's-eye. Not dead center, but close enough.

"Beat that." I challenged as I sauntered back to R'ad. He stuck his tongue out at me before walking up to the marker as I laughed, "Very mature, my lord!"

He ignored me and took his time adjusting his bow. I rolled my eyes and said with the rest of the laughing crowd, "HURRY UP!"

He laughed with us and quickly drew the bow up. He aimed and fired swiftly. The people, including myself, erupted in elated cheers. He had hit absolutely dead center! I ran over and hugged him, glad he had finally won. He spun me around in a circle before setting me down and then kissed the tip of my nose, which was peeking out because my shemgah had slipped a little. I adjusted the cloth and ducked my head. That was the first time a man had ever kissed a part of me besides my hand. And this was a very informal occasion. I felt myself blushing.

"I'm going to see your face one day, _Fatin_." I heard him whisper huskily into my ear. I shivered. He knew Fatin wasn't my real name. Damn. He's much more perceptive than I thought. He tugged on my arm after retrieving his prize, "Come on, lovely. I'm going to buy you a present."

I tried to object but he'd grabbed my arm and began to pull me through the crowd towards the main street of vendors. I didn't want a present, but I guess if he wanted to, there was nothing I could do. He took me to the nicest jewelry vendor and bought a silver and jade bracelet for me, the nicest thing the man at the counter had. I started to protest but R'ad shushed me and clasped the bracelet on my left wrist. I liked green, so I was okay with it. I beamed up at him, letting it show in my eyes, and he smiled back before taking my hand again and pulling me into the crowd.

We had been walking for a few minutes when someone slammed into me and I fell flat on my butt. R'ad swore loudly and helped me up before I could get trampled. He released me and whirled around, looking for the perpetrator, I guess. While he was turned away, a hand clamped over my mouth and an arm went around me, trapping my own arms to my waist. I tried to make a noise but I was jerked back so quickly the air was crushed from my lungs. Whoever had grabbed me dragged my down an alley before letting me go. I spun around, going for my dagger, completely ready to slaughter whoever it was (yes, my anger is that bad), but I froze when I saw who it was.

The 'scholar'.

The one who saved me.

The one who watched me earlier today.

The one with the blade on his wrist.

Oh my God.

Before I could say or do anything he gripped my upper right arm roughly and dragged me down the alley. "We meet again, monkey girl." He growled. Shit. He recognized me from yesterday. "Or should I say, _my Lady_?"

Oh Mary, mother of GOD. He knew who I was. Shit. No. OW his grip on my arm hurt. He dragged me into an empty courtyard with a small fountain in the center and several trees and bushes around the edges. Two other alleys led to the area besides the one we came to. The buildings were bright white and the stone road dark. The contrast hurt my eyes. He threw me towards the fountain with inhuman strength. I stumbled and caught myself before turning to him.

"What the hell do you want?" I hissed.

"That's not a way for Muhammed Afzal's daughter to speak." He said calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. I glared at him and opened my mouth to speak, but stopped when he turned his head to the side and held up his hand for silence. I crossed my own arms over my chest and waited impatiently. He suddenly grabbed me by the arm again and ran, dragging me along, into a corner behind a tree and some bushes. He threw me into the corner, my back to the walls and stood before me. _Very_ closely, might I add. He put a hand on the wall, on either side of my waist and leaned close, shaking his shoulders so his cloak fell about him. He leaned _even closer_, so his chest was pressed up against mine.

"Don't. Move." He commanded with a hiss into my ear, "If you move, you die. Not necessarily by my hand, but by the Templars'."

I hushed up at that. I hate the Templars. Father loves them. What a pig. The only bad thing was, this strange man was extremely close to me and I do **not** like closed in spaces _or_ men. SO I was very uncomfortable. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe slowly. Mingling with the fresh air was the scent of sweat, horses, linen and…cinnamon? Did this man smell like…cinnamon? How odd is **that**?

My thoughts were interrupted by the clink of metal and boots on stone. Templars. And from the sound of it, several of them. Damn. I stood completely still, my claustrophobia and hatred of men washed away by the new-come fear of being killed or captured by the damned Templar. They were very close. So close. I started to shake and tried to stop, but couldn't. The cloaked man placed a hand on my shoulder and rubbed a circle with his thumb against me, almost comfortably.

"Relax…" he whispered, almost inaudibly. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Relax. It'll be alright. You'll be fine. But how could I relax when my impending doom was not only approaching, but potentially, touching me? Jesus help me, I'm in trouble.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, some short sections in here, but I had to make some time-lapses as a result of me running out of ideas. I've been fading in and out of writers' block, eeee! Scary stuff, man. Anyway, please tell me what you think! Loves ya!_

_Ah yes, and thank you _misikoblossom,_ for pointing out that confusing sentence. I fixed it. :P You rock!_


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning I begged Biyya to bring my breakfast up to my room

_DISCLAIMER: Altaïr…-sob- WHY CAN'T YOU BE MIIIIIIIINE!!_

**

* * *

**

A Forced Agreement

I wouldn't have been surprised if my father and mother could hear my pounding heart all the way back at the palace. I tried to still my heart and calm my nerves, but nothing was working. I was terrified that the Templars would find us. I was terrified of the man who was supposedly hiding me. What would happen if the Templars spotted us? What would happen if the Templars _didn't_ spot us? What would this strange man do to me?! I felt panic rising like bile in my throat, a scream that needed to rip itself from my body or I'd explode. So I clamped my mouth shut on a spur-of-the moment decision, figuring one man was better than multiple Templars. So I made sure to concentrate on my breathing instead of the approaching footsteps, which were now _very_ close. They had to be in the courtyard, judging by how loud they were being. Not talking, though. Just walking. Their armor clinked together menacingly as their boots snapped smartly on the stone. The cloaked man before me tensed slightly, which didn't help my fractured nerves.

It seemed as if it took hours for the Templars to cross the small courtyard. I held my breath as their footsteps faded away. They hadn't even paused to look around! I guess Mr. Cloak here could blend in because of the whiteness of his clothes. Such a relief.

After the sound of the Templars disappeared, I tried to push passed Mr. Cloak, but he shoved me against the wall, keeping his body pressed against mine, "No." he hissed, "You move when I say so." Suddenly I wasn't so sure choosing Mr. Cloak over the Templars was the best idea. I swallowed nervously and almost choked on my own saliva.

Probably about five minutes later, Mr. Cloak backed up and gave me some breathing room. He glanced over his shoulder, "They're gone."

I rolled my eyes, "Thank you for pointing that out," I said sarcastically, "I would have never figured that out." He still hadn't moved enough for my liking, so I clenched the muscles in my right shoulder and arm and slammed into him, pushing past. I guess he didn't expect that because he stumbled back and almost fell.

"Sorry." I said in a not-so-sorry voice, "But I'm going home now." I walked past him, fully intent on leaving him there, but he grabbed my arm again. Hard.

"No. You're staying here." He commanded and threw me against the wall. Something in my back went 'pop'. I glared at him as I tried to fight off the pain lancing down my back. Mr. Cloak grabbed my other arm and squeezed. I gasped in pain. GOD he's strong! He leaned down so his breath was hot on my face. I smelled cinnamon again. "Tell me what your father is planning."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked in genuine confusion. He growled and shook me a bit.

"What. Is. Your. Father. Planning. Simple enough for you?" He hissed.

"Seriously, Mr. Cloak," I replied, not even realizing my little nickname for him had slipped out. That's how scared I was. "I don't know what you're talking about. Be more specific and I may be able to help you."

"Mr. Cloak?" He asked, sounding a little irritated. I opened my mouth to explain but he cut me off, "Nevermind. Surely you've heard him mention something about Masyaf? Al Mualim?"

I blinked up at him, trying to see his face under the cloak. The dark night was not helping. "I don't know anything about that." I said earnestly, hoping he'd let me go. I thought about it, then added, "Isn't Masyaf a small city?"

"**I** ask the questions." Mr. Cloak barked, slamming me against the wall again. Okay, now I was angry. All my previous fear was gone and I just wanted him to get the hell away from me. I opened my mouth to reply and then gasped, looking behind him with fear. He turned automatically, releasing one of my arms to get a better angle. I almost laughed. People are so gullible. While he was looking for the 'danger', which was made up, I quickly reached up and yanked his hood back.

I got a split second when he turned back to me to see messy hair so dark brown it was almost black, dark hazel eyes with a scar near the left one, a strong nose with another scar to the side, and a tiny scar on his upper, full lip. He was extremely handsome. And angry. Scratch that, furious. He pulled his hood back up and gripped my arm tightly. I sighed inwardly, knowing I'd have bruises on my arms and probably on my back.

"NEVER do that again, hear me?" I nodded with an evil grin, even though he couldn't see it through my shemgah. "Now answer me."

"I told you the truth. I don't know. And who are you?" He just stared at me.

"That doesn't matter." He said slowly. "And surely you know something. You are a strange woman, who hates men but pays attention to what they say and do. And, even though you hate men, you spend every Summer Festival with R'ad after the Archery Competition. Even though you loathe your father, you try to sway his decisions for important events. You want to change how the people of the Poor District, and other places, live, so you obviously have to get close to someone high up to accomplish this."

I gaped at him. How the hell did he know so much about me? He must have read my expression, because he chuckled, "I've been digging up some information on you since I saw you playing with the children this morning."

I leaned against the wall and Mr. Cloak relaxed his grip. "Hm…" I thought carefully, "Perhaps we can help each other."

"And how would that come to happen, might I ask?" He sounded amused, even though I was being serious.

"I get information from my father, and you get me some 'dirt' on the richest people in Jerusalem." I said simply.

"You would really do this?" he asked, scratching his chin. I was starting to get really uncomfortable, being so close to him, so I started to slowly edge away.

"Yes. I would. You know I hate my father, and as long as you tell me your name and promise not to assassinate him, I'll help you." He stopped scratching his chin.

"Why would I assassinate him?"

I shuffled my feet, "'cause I think you're an assassin."

"Hm." He crossed his arms. I noticed he neither denied nor confirmed it. Interesting. "I can't guarantee nothing will happen to your father in the…future…but for now I can promise you that he will be safe for a good while. He is…needed."

I raised an eyebrow, not particularly liking the way he had stated that. He shook his head and I sighed. I guess I wasn't good enough to know.

"Why do you want to know about the rich men of Jerusalem?" he asked seriously.

"Why do you want to know what my father is up to?" I countered with a wicked grin. His lips twitched and finally formed a frowned.

"Very well. I understand. Find out what you can and go to the well in the center of the Poor District tomorrow at sunset. We'll work from there." He stepped back to let me pass. I started to leave and then stopped, turning back to face him. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Watching me. Creepy.

"What is your name, assassin?" I asked with a small smile. You think I'd be afraid, but no, I wasn't for some reason. I felt oddly…safe.

"I never said I was an assassin." He said softly, pushing off from the wall.

"You never denied it, either." I pointed out. He stopped a few feet from me and chuckled.

"No, I suppose I didn't. And I am Altaїr." I nodded and turned, ready to get away from that creepy courtyard. "And Nadra."

I froze when I heard my rarely used middle name. I turned slowly to glare at him. I don't know why, but I didn't really like it when people called me that. I crossed my arms, waiting for him to continue.

"If you do not come meet me tomorrow," He growled, voice suddenly cold and hard, leaving me more terrified than ever that evening, "whether you found out something new or not…I will find you and the consequences will not be pleasant, understand?"

I nodded vigorously before turning and running down the alley, eager to get back to the brightly lighted streets. I couldn't believe what I'd just done. I was in league with an assassin.

* * *

I hurried down the streets, mumbling my apologies if I bumped into someone. The fun had been sucked right out of me for the night. I needed to get home to some peace and quiet to figure out what I had just agreed to do. I had mostly said those things to get Mr. Cl—Altaїr to leave me alone, for I was sure that if I hadn't come up with something, he would have killed me. So I was in a bit of a predicament. Would Altaїr really come and…punish me, or whatever, if I didn't show tomorrow? What if I couldn't get out? Hm. I guess I'd just have to try.

"Fatin!" a voice called from behind. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I went by that name, but I didn't stop. I was too preoccupied by figuring out what I was going to do. I was vaguely aware of the name being called several more times, but I kept ignoring it. Suddenly I was grabbed by the arm, for the umpteenth time that night, and spun around. To find R'ad's worried face peering down at me.

"Fatin! Are you alright?" He asked, not letting go of my arm.

"Yeah, fine." I said offhandedly. "I just got mixed up in the crowd."

"Okay." R'ad didn't sound convinced. "Do you want to get something to eat?"

I gazed up at him. He really was kind. But...even though I wanted to go with him, I needed to get back home and work out what I was going to do with this whole 'spying' business. I shifted a bit uncomfortably, "No, thank you though, R'ad. I'm not feeling well, so I'm just going to head home."

He looked concerned, "Okay then..." he sighed, then grinned, "How 'bout I walk you home?"

I laughed, "Very sneaky, but no thank you. I'll be fine."

"Alright. You should come visit later in the week though." He produced a piece of parchment from God knows where and handed it to me, "These are directions to my home. Come by anytime."

I looked at the folded paper and clutched it to me. "Um…okay."

"Take care!" he called after me as I walked away into the crowd. I hurried down the streets, eager to get home and sort out what I was doing with myself.

Slipping down an alley, I checked to make sure nobody followed me. I was alone. Good. I scaled the wall and clambered onto the roof. I hiked my disdasha up around my waist and tied it with little strings I had sewn in. I altered all my clothes to do all kinds of crazy stuff. I quickly tied up the cloth and then sprinted and leapt from roof-top to roof-top, avoiding the gaze of guards posted on random perches (1).

I reached the palace wall sooner than I expected and had to stop to catch my breath. I guess I had been a bit frightened and the adrenaline rush was wearing off, so I had to actually sit down to prevent a blackout. I breathed slowly in and out of my nose for several minutes before opening my eyes. Something moved along the rooftops. It hat looked like the silhouette of a person. Altaïr…? I thought, then shook my head. Nah. I stood and pulled myself over the wall, making my way tiredly over to my balcony, where I called up for Biyya.

"You're back early." She said when I swung my legs over the railing and hopped down. I helped her roll up the ladder and put it away.

"Something…came up." I stated slowly.

"And what would that be?" She raised an eyebrow. I sighed and led her over to my seating area, where I told her what had happened after R'ad had bought me the bracelet. I told her everything.

"God above…" Biyya whispered and laid back on the cushions. "What are you going to do, Lamya?"

"I don't know…but I guess I have to find out _something_. I'm afraid he will do as he said and harm me if I do not do as I agreed." I curled up next to her and closed my eyes. So sleepy…though I knew my night was far from over.

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_A/N: Okie dokie, kinda short but that's alright I guess. I wanted to get the next chapter out. And so far you people are telling me you want a lemon, so right now I'm planning for that. If you think a lemon is a bad idea though, vote! Hell, vote either way! Let me know what you guys think though, I love reviews! And yes, this chapter sucks. I've had writers block. -.-' Haven't been able to write any of my stories. -sigh- Alrighty then, thanks for the support everyone!!_

_(1) So like the game, lol._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: -lays on the floor drooling from the brain shocks- Owners…of Assassin's Creed…shocky-shocked me…rawr…I try to Altaïr…kidnap…faaaaaail…rawr I don't own him…or anything…_

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Secret Meetings

Three hours. THREE FLIPPIN HOURS I had been sitting behind a drapery in a stuffy alcove of my father's meeting room while he ate an early dinner. And he and Ghalib were _still_ talking about trade routs and blah blah blah. None of it was interesting or what I figured Altaïr wanted. So there I sat, practically drooling from boredom. And then Ghalib actually said something odd.

"So…do you know where the Bureau is located?" I sat up straighter and listened more carefully.

"No…I've been trying to figure it out, though," my father replied with a sniff. "However, I believe it is somewhere in the Poor District. I try not to associate with those scum, though, so I have to send trusted guards down there to look around for me."

I blinked rapidly and frowned. What bureau were they talking about?

"Ah…" Ghalib sighed, "Well, Lamya took me to the Poor District yesterday and I didn't notice anything too unusual, besides her playing with a bunch of filthy street urchins."

"She is a fool, to mingle with them," Father growled. I could feel my anger begin to boil up. How DARE he call me a fool! _And_ call those poor children urchins! I sat back and huffed silently, waiting for them to continue.

"Regardless, she will play an important roll in our plans." I heard Ghalib sip from some drink, "And how much longer must I wait until these…plans unfold?"

"Two weeks. I am readying the army to be transferred to your control. I have told them already that you will be taking over soon and they must do whatever you say." He cleared his throat before adding seriously, "I've had to up their pay for this, Ghalib, so you had better make this worth-while."

"Of course." Ghalib said with a chuckle, "After we have wiped out their headquarters, we will pillage and what not. You will receive…half of what I find."

"No." my father said firmly, "You are getting my army _and_ my daughter. I want two-thirds." I almost gasped aloud when I heard this. I had to fight it off and ended up choking silently for several minutes.

"Fine." Ghalib sighed. The chairs scraped and the two men bid each other good night before leaving. I stayed where I was, staring into the darkness of the covered alcove. Angry was an understatement. I was LIVID. Ghalib AND my father had lied to me! I shoved my way out from behind the drapery and stormed down the hall to my room, ignoring Biyya's questions as I tore at the clothes in my wardrobe.

"LAMYA!" she finally screamed and I whirled around, several different articles of clothing draped across my arms and shoulders.

"What?" I asked flatly.

"What on earth did you hear that has gotten you so upset?" she touched my arm gently, concern etched across her face.

"Father is 'giving' me to Ghalib, along with the army." I sighed and finished picking out a suitable outfit.

"Why?"

"I don't know." I lied, not wanting her to know too much. I would hate to be the cause of her being kicked out on the streets or something.

"Alright…" she replied slowly and sat down on the edge of my bed. Great. She didn't believe me. I didn't bother to elaborate but instead pulled on an old disdasha and shemgah before walking out onto the balcony.

"It's almost sunset…" I sighed, "Yesterday Altaïr said to go to the well in the center of the Poor District, so that's where I'm going. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but it shouldn't be too late."

"Take care, then." Biyya smiled almost sadly and hooked up the ladder. I nodded and gave her a quick, one armed hug before swiftly making my way down the ladder and away from the palace.

* * *

I waited at the well, fiddling with the little bucket as if it were broken. Suddenly, a man appeared next to me in a white cloak. I glanced to the side and realized it wasn't Altaïr, only a scholar.

"Miss Lamya." He said casually and took the bucket from my hands, tying the rope tightly to the handle before lowering it. He slowly drew it back up as he continued to speak, "Do you remember where the court yard is from last night?"

I thought about it and retraced my steps, "Yes, I do."

"Go there in twenty minutes, but be sure _no one sees you._" He whispered as the bucket reached the top. He drew it out and handed it to me, "If someone has seen you, your contact will not be there and you will be in trouble."

I opened my mouth to respond but he was already gone. I frowned and turned away from the well, walking casually into the dying crowd. I made my way down the street to the small alley, where I stopped to adjust my shemgah and made sure nobody was watching me. When I was sure nobody would notice, I slipped down the alley and soon found myself in the small courtyard. The swiftly approaching night didn't make me feel any safer. I sat down on the edge of the fountain and waited.

After several intense minutes of NOTHING, I heard a rustle behind me. I stood and whirled around, checking to make sure the dagger was still in its sheath at my waist. I relaxed, just barely though, when I realized it was Altaïr. I crossed my arms over my chest as he walked around the perimeter of the courtyard.

"What are you doing?" I asked impatiently.

"Double checking." He said bluntly. I sighed and sat down on the edge of the fountain again. Soon, however, he walked over and stood before me, seemingly glaring down at me. "Tell me, Nadra, what did you find out?"

"Okay, first of all," I started and stood to pace about, "did you find out anything useful for me?"

"That's _not_ the way this works." He snapped.

"Oh, it is." I turned to face him with a hidden smile, "Because you see, I have some pretty interesting information that I think you would like and maybe need to know, so you talk first, and I swear I'll tell you everything I heard earlier tonight."

Altaïr's lips tightened into a very thin line. Whoops, I thought. Guess I ticked him off. Oh well.

"Very well…" he said slowly, "Jalal Khayrat, the self-proclaimed preacher and Christian in the Rich District, the one who lets poor people come live in his house and work for him out of the 'goodness of his heart', runs a brothel in Acre. His co-partner, who he is sleeping with, is Gulzar Tabassum, wife to Abdul Tabassum."

My mouth formed a perfect 'O'. "But Jalal Khayrat is _married_! And has been for eighteen **years**!" I exclaimed. Abruptly sitting down, once again, on the edge of the fountain, I stared at my hands. This was big. This was bigger than big. I looked up at him, "He tells everyone what a great person he is and how everyone should be holy, for Christ's sake! What a hypocrite!"

"Yes, indeed. Most everyone is." Altaïr said offhandedly and impatiently, "Now can you give me the information you have?"

I laughed bitterly, "Well, now mine doesn't seem so grand, compared to yours." He folded his arms over his chest impatiently, "Fine, fine, I get it." He nodded and I rolled my eyes, "My father and Ghalib Amir are looking for some sort of secret bureau. My father believes it is the Poor District and occasionally sends out guards to search for it. In two weeks, Father plans to marry me to Ghalib and hand over the control of the army to him. At least that's what I got from it all. It seems like Ghalib is going to use the army to wipe out some sort of headquarters and then pillage the area or something. He's going to give my father two-thirds of what he finds in payment for me and the army."

I swear I saw Altaïr pale a little, but it was too dark to tell. "But I'm not going to marry him," I spat angrily, "so that may foil their plans."

"Indeed," he said softly, "Whatever happens, you must not marry him. This is much bigger than I thought, if what you said is true."

I sighed and stood, "Well, I just repeated what they said, only analyzing it a bit. So if you got something out of it that helps, great. If not, oh well. I did what you told me to."

"Yes, you did well," he commented off-handedly, "Though I need to know more. Try to get close to Ghalib and figure out what exactly he wants to do and where he thinks the bureau and headquarters are."

"No. Way." I said sternly and pointed a finger in his face, "If I get close to him, he'll think I'm willing to marry him and I'm NOT!"

"That's the point!" Altaïr snapped. Quicker than I thought humanly possible, he grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm around behind my back at an impossible angle. I bit back a cry of pain as he ripped off my shemgah to hiss in my ear, "You must find out exactly what he is going to do, understand? This is very vital and could cost thousands of people their lives. Most of them innocent. So do _not_ mess this up, got it? And I've already said you are not allowed to marry him, so you _won't._"

I nodded and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the fiery pain in my shoulder. He tightened his already iron-strong grip to show he meant business before releasing me and stepping back. I stumbled forward and caught myself before hitting the ground. I was seriously angry now, but waited several minutes for the throb in my arm to fade before doing anything drastic. I thought about trying to stab him with my knife, but as I calmed down I realized that would be a horrible idea. He was a well trained fighter. So instead I decided to cut with my tongue.

"I suggest you not do that again." I said slowly, straightening up and facing him, ignoring my current disarray, "For if you do, I will _not_ help you anymore. In fact, I will tell Ghalib and father all about you."

"I'll kill you if you do." He countered angrily.

I smiled sweetly. "Go ahead. That way I don't have to deal with marrying Ghalib or you or anyone anymore. And you'll really be sunk without me."

"You little--"

"Tread carefully, Altaïr." I said softly and picked up my shemgah, dusting it off casually, "I am a dangerous enemy. Yes, I may be strong for a woman, but I know I cannot take you in a physical duel. I can, however, defeat you politically, mentally, or orally." I gave him a level look, "Do NOT hurt me again or you will regret it."

He stared at me silently for almost a full minute. And then he laughed. Not a chuckle or anything small, but a full bellied laugh. He actually wiped away a tear. I gaped at him angrily. "What the hell is so damn funny?"

He coughed several times and then shook his head, "You would make a better man than a woman. Especially with that last comment." He gazed at me seriously then, head cocked to the side, "Now go home, and rest. Go to the well tomorrow evening and follow instructions as you did today."

"Fine." I said, fixing my shemgah before walking off down the alley. I stopped and turned quickly, seeing him disappearing into the shadows. "Altaïr" I called, "Wait."

He paused and turned his head slightly, indicating he was listening. "Last night," I started, "did you follow me home?"

"Why would you think that?" he asked softly.

"Because I stopped to rest and saw somebody on the roof. When I spotted them, they hid."

"Do not worry about that." He said bluntly and disappeared into the darkness of one of the alleys.

"I'll take that as a yes." I muttered grumpily.

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A/N: OKAY then, another short chapter, I know, but I seriously_ couldn't think of where to go from there. So yeah. SORRY!! Please don't flame me!! –begs on her knees- BACK OFF BOYS! Being on my knees dun mean anything like that… -glare- Bwahaha. Later._


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: -being more cautious because Melodia told her to- I iz sneaking up on Altaïr…donnna get him. Bwahaha. –snatch and a miss- Damn…I own nothing… ;.;_

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Shattered Peace

The next few days were relatively uneventful, especially after my father left to visit Ghalib's home in Damascus. Altaïr was a little upset when he learned that bit of information three nights after our first scheduled meeting. He had cursed and ranted a bit while I yawned and daydreamed of living out in the rural area, raising horses. And so we had decided to stop meeting until my father got back. At first I was happy for this decision, but I soon realized that I had nothing to do at night anymore.

And so it was a week after my father left that I strolled down the streets of the Poor District with Kelia, a small girl from the orphanage that I had taken a liking to, and she to me. I had bought her a small silver ring at one of the trust-worthy vendors, along with a gold necklace for Biyya. I think Kelia, as well as the women and men who worked at the orphanage, knew I wasn't who I seemed, but I didn't care. As long as they didn't know _exactly_ who I was, everything would be alright.

"Fatin?" Kelia chirped. I smiled down into her bright green eyes.

"Yes, my little one?" I scooped her up and carried her on my hip. She wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on my shoulder. Being very small for the age of seven, it was easy to carry her fragile and light frame.

"Why do you pretend to be like us?" Continuing on our way, I didn't answer for a long time. I sighed inwardly. Apparently I'm not doing a very good job of concealing my identity, I thought, especially if a mere child can see through my façade.

"What do you mean?" I finally replied.

"You walk and talk and everything differently," she said with a yawn. I reached up and brushed her black bangs out of her eyes before sitting down on a vacant bench. She twisted in my hold to sit with her back against my chest, "and you try to hide it."

I remained silently. She turned her head and blinked up at me. "Well? Are you a goddess or something?"

At that I laughed loudly, earning a few glares. "No, I'm not a _goddess_, Kelia. What on earth would make you think that?"

"Well…" she turned back to watch the passing people, snuggling against me, "you always come help out at the house, but never ask for anything in return."

I hugged her to me and laid my cheek on the top of her head, closing my eyes with a sigh, "Well, sweetie, I do that because I want you and the other children to have a good and love-filled life. I can't do much, but I do as much as I can. And I think everyone should spend time with you and your wonderful friends. It's preposterous that our idiotic ruler doesn't pay attention to his people and children."

I heard her gasp, "Fatin! That's blasphemy! You shouldn't speak like that."

"It doesn't matter." I laughed, "It's not like someone is going to report me." I felt her shrug.

A few minutes later she tugged on my sleeve, "Fatin, don't look right now, but there is a man over by that alley staring at you. He's in the shadows, but he's been lookin at us ever since we sat down."

Altaïr? I wondered. I waited a minute and then sat up, casually scanning our surroundings in the growing dark. No. It wasn't my assassin acquaintance. It was a Templar. Fantastic. "Hmm…" I looked away, "I think I'll take you home now, Kelia." I stood, keeping my hold on her small body tight, and tried to walk slowly and casually back down the street towards the orphanage. It wasn't far. Just a few minutes away. I tried not to run as I felt the Templar's eyes boring into the back of my head.

"Why do I have to go home?" Kelia whined, "I want to spend time with you!"

"Hush, Kel." I scolded. She laid her head on my shoulder.

"Is it that scary man that was watching us?" she asked. I didn't respond, only walked on, becoming more and more relieved as we neared the orphanage. I hurried inside the gates and up to the front door, through which I past quickly and quietly. Nodding a greeting with a false smile to all the women who worked there, I made my way down one of the halls to the room Kelia shared with three other girls.

"Don't go out again tonight, okay sweetie?" I murmured after setting Kelia down. She nodded and I brushed her dark hair out of her eyes with a smile. I pulled her into a hug. "Take care."

"Only if you do, too, Fatin." She whispered. I sat back on my heels and gave her a level look. This child is too wise for her age, I thought.

"Of course." I smiled again and stood, waving once more before leaving. I took the back door out, hoping to avoid the Templar. God only knows why he was interested in me.

Once outside, I pulled myself over the fence and landed lightly on the other side. It was almost completely dark. I cursed myself for waiting so long to make my way home as I ran down the back alley. But I loved the children so much…one day I planned on adopting several to take care of.

I froze and pressed myself into a dark doorway when I heard soft clinking. Peering around the corner, I spotted the Templar slowly walking down the alley, checking every doorway. I slipped out of my own doorway and tried to move soundlessly down the street.

"Arrêt!" a voice called from behind me, "Vous êtes en état d'arrestation! Venir silencieusement et je peux vous montrer la pitié!" (1)

I cursed loudly, understanding enough French to know he wanted to arrest me. I froze for a few seconds, contemplating my next move and searching my brain for the little French I knew. Mother had given me lessons, but I had slacked off for the past three years, so I'd forgotten a lot. Turning slowly, I glared at the Templar as he approached me, "Qui vous a envoyé?" (2)

He paused, obviously confused by my horrible French. Placing a hand on the hilt of his sword, he cocked his head, "Cela n'a pas d'importance, la femme. Vous êtes de m'être fourni avec. Si je le dis une fois plus, je ne serai pas léger et aura ma façon avec vous avant de vous remettre aux autorités correctes." (3)

I blinked at him, "Do what?"

"Juste se taire et la promenade à moi lentement." (4) He snapped. I frowned and began to decipher the sentence.

"L'enfer no." (5) I smirked and unsheathed my dagger. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, but I'd rather die than be captured and raped by a Templar. And then sent to God knows where to be discovered. So I choose death.

"Amende". He replied, drawing his blade and walking towards me, "Alors vous mourrez. C'est dommage, cependant. Vous avez un beau corps." (6)

I ignored whatever he was saying, an insult for sure, and crouched down, ready for his attack. He swung his sword in a swift high arch, and I barely had time to doge. When I rolled back to my feet I lunged at him to cut his lower left side. He kicked out with his right foot and caught me in the chest. Without even looking, I rolled to the side, assuming he was going to try to hit me. And, as predicted, his sword sliced into the ground where I was only seconds ago. Crouching low to the ground, I breathed deeply, trying to fight off the pain that lanced through my chest. He raised his sword, doubly handed, and I realized I was so winded that I couldn't move. I stared up, awaiting my death.

And then out of nowhere a white blur slammed into the Templar's back. I blinked stupidly as Altaïr made an attempt to stab the cursing man in the neck. The Templar, however, grabbed the assassin's wrist and threw him into the wall with a sickening 'thud'. Altaïr grunted but was moving as soon as his feet hit the floor. He dodged the enemy's first few attacks easily, but I could soon see this match was quite even.

I stumbled to my feet and hefted the dagger in my hand, wondering if I could throw it accurately and not hit Altaïr. I heard a loud grunt and looked up in time to see the Templar kick my 'friend' in the stomach, causing him to double over. Arching his blade high, the French nuisance made to lop off the cloaked man's head. Without thinking, I flicked my wrist, sending the dagger flying. It caught he Templar in his lower right side. He cried out in pain, but still moved to kill Altaïr.

My tactics, however, had given the assassin enough time to move. The blade still hit him in the shoulder and I winced. He didn't make a sound, though. Just moved to the side and rammed his left hand up into the jaw of the Templar, his hidden blade killing instantly.

"Are you alright?" Altaïr asked, making his way over to me as I stared at the body. When I didn't answer he touched my shoulder lighly, "Nadra. Talk."

I blinked up at him. "I think this means someone knows who I am."

"Perhaps." He dropped his hand and looked at the fallen Templar.

"Thank you, for saving me." I glanced at him and then frowned at his bleeding arm, "You're hurt pretty badly."

"Hn?" he looked at his shoulder. "No, I'm fine. I've had much worse."

I pressed my lips together and watched him walk away. "I guess it was a good thing you were following me." I called. He stopped and turned slowly.

"I guess so." He said slowly. I made my way over to him, avoiding the body.

"Why?" I asked when I was standing before him.

"Why what?" He sighed. I rolled my eyes.

"Why are you following me?" I raised an eyebrow, then frowned, "Not that I am not grateful for you saving me…I'm just curious."

"I am following orders." Altaïr said simply, "I was told to keep you alive."

"Ah…" I couldn't help but stare at his shoulder, which was bleeding profusely, "You really need to take care of that."

"I will later. Right now you just need to get home." I looked up into his eyes, or at least where I assumed his eyes to be.

"I will go home and stay there if you promise to go take care of your arm right now." For a long time we stared at each other in silence.

"No." he said flatly. "I cannot go against my orders. Besides, why do you care?"

I opened my mouth to respond and paused. Why _did_ I care? This man had been a jerk to me for a long time. Though he _had _saved my life on more than one occasion…I frowned, "Because one, you just saved my life. And two, I need you to get information for me."

"I see," he sighed, "Well, I can't let you walk home alone. Not after this."

I actually felt my eyebrow twitch in anger. I poked him in the chest, "Listen here, mister. Either you go take care of your arm or I scream for the guards."

He stared at me for a long time, the tension in the air between us almost tangible. I was tempted to wave my hand between our faces and see if it was like pushing your hand through water. But I decided not to. Don't want to look insane.

Altaїr turned away, "Fine. But you are coming with me."

"No I am not!" I scoffed, "I'm going home!"

He turned back to me with a wicked grin, "Yes. Yes you are. After I fix my arm. You insisted, after all." And with that he grabbed me, with his injured arm, and threw me over his shoulder. I bit back a shriek, not wanting to alert any passer-bys, and thought about kicking and hitting, but that would be childless. So I just pouted.

"Doesn't this hurt?" I asked after he'd easily scaled a building and began running from roof-top to roof-top.

"Yes," he called back over his shoulder, "but I know how to ignore it."

"Masochist…" I muttered under my breath. I think he may have chuckled.

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_A/N: Okay, I know I used the word 'Templar' in here a lot, but SERIOUSLY, there is no other word to call them. I tried my best. So…sorry if that was annoying. I'll try not to do that ever again. Also, sorry for the shortness, but sometimes I just feel like I need to end a chapter on a random sentence or whatever, and I feel I did well with ending this one. Please leave me _reviews! _I love to know your opinions! Just no _flaming_ please! _

1—"Halt! You are under arrest! Come quietly and I may show you mercy!"

2—"Who sent you?"

3—"That does not matter, woman. You are to come with me. If I say it once more, I will not be gentle and will have my way with you before turning you over to the proper authorities."

4—"Just be quiet and walk to me slowly."

5—"Hell no."

6—"Fine. Then you will die. It is a pity, however. You have a lovely body."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: -Asking nicely per request of Melodia-_

Estrella:_ Um…Altaïr? _

Altaïr: _-raises eyebrow- _

Estrella:_ Will you…be mine? Just for a little while? I'll give you back to your ah…owners. _

Altaïr: _We'll see. -pats her on the head and walks away- _

Estrella: -_drools- He touched me… -faints-_

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Confusing Events

I waited on the soft cushions, staring up into the night sky through the lattice. Altaїr was inside with Malak, getting his arm bandaged and fixed up. Apparently I was now trusted enough that I could know where the 'assassin's bureau' is in Jerusalem. And I'm sure this is the place Father is looking for. Not that I would ever tell him. Hell, I probably couldn't find it again. It was so dark and Altaїr had been moving so quickly I couldn't take any of it in. So I just stayed where he threw me down and tried not to fall asleep.

"Are you comfortable enough?" a deep voice asked from my right. I blinked and looked over at the tall, muscular man standing in the doorway. Malak.

"Yes, thank you." I said sleepily, sitting up. He walked over and sunk to his knees beside me. It seemed to be a theme among Altaїr's people to wear hoods that covered their features, so all I could see of his face was a bit of beard and thin lips.

"And, though Altaїr is not my favorite person," Malak said slowly, staring intently at the cushion before him, "I must thank you for making him come to me. The wound he has received is very grave, and could have been fatal. The idiot is always too stubborn for his own good."

"Yeah, no kidding," I yawned, "I don't see why he doesn't take care of himself. I guess he is stupid that way. Thinking he has to follow me home all the time…"

"Well, he has to," Malak chuckled. I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, earning a smile, "He has orders to keep you safe. He must be with you when you venture out into dangerous areas."

I laughed at that, "No wonder he hates me so much. He's stuck with me."

"No," he said seriously, shaking his head, "on the contrary, my child."

"…what do you mean?" my eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Altaїr respects your greatly. He may not ever admit that aloud, but I can tell that he finds you to be an honorable person."

"You've got to be kidding me!" I giggled.

"No, I am not." Malak smiled at me and rose to his feet, "He complains about what you have said, done, and just you in general. He will not speak of someone, especially negatively and to me, unless he finds them worthy of his attention. So do not let his harsh attitude and words distress you."

"But I heard you two arguing a lot." I pointed out. He stopped just before the doorway and glanced over his shoulder at me, frowning.

"Altaїr and I have a…special relationship. It is too complicated to explain to your right now."

I opened my mouth to ask a question but stopped when the devil himself appeared before us inside the dark building. His dark hair was partially plastered to his head while the rest of it stuck up in a wet mass. Drops of water clung to his bare, muscular chest, which was etched with scars. The ugly wound on his shoulder was bleeding slowly, the red liquid running down his trunk to soak into the towel around his waist. "Stop talking about me," he commanded in a monotonous voice. "I'm ten feet away, so don't pretend I can't here you."

My mouth fell open for a second and I snapped it shut quickly, looking away awkwardly while Malak laughed. "Careful, dog, you may scare the poor girl with your disgusting looks and attitude."

"Shut up Malak," I heard the mostly naked assassin snap before walking away. I played with the tasseled edge of a pillow while Malak followed his 'friend' back inside to help him dress the wound. I hadn't realized Altaїr had been bathing. And GOD why was my face getting hot? There's no legit reason for me to be blushing. Except me seeing a mostly naked man. Argh! I thought, beating myself mentally, Do NOT imagine him in the nude.

"Oh, Jesus above, save me," I muttered, falling back on the pillows. What would mother think if she saw me in this awkward predicament?

* * *

Someone was poking me. I batted away their hand and rolled over, squeezing my eyelids together harder when bright sunlight burned through the darkness. Burying my head in the soft cushions, I sighed and tried to sleep again. So exhausted…and then the poking turned into a slap on the back of the head.

"STOP it, Biyya!" I groaned. Another slap to the head.

"Can it, woman," Altaїr growled, "Wake up."

"No…" I whined and ignored him.

Wait.

Him?

Altaїr?

I sat up straight, wide awake, "What are you doing in my…oh shit."

Altaїr gazed at me lazily from his position on the cushions, all dressed up in fresh white clothes. I so wasn't home. I was at the bureau. And it was morning. _Late_ morning, none the less. I leapt to my feet, the front of my disdasha sticking to my chest and belly. I looked down and cursed. Altaїr's blood had soaked into the cloth last night, and I hadn't ever realized it. I looked up at him with a panicked expression, "I have to get home! NOW!"

"Fine," he smiled and laid back, "Go then."

I looked around for a way out. The only place I could see was to scale the wall and exit through an opening in the lattice. Snatching up my shemgah and putting it on haphazardly, I ran and climbed up the wall. I had just reached the top when Altaїr spoke.

"You know, it's going to take you forever to find the fastest route home." I froze as his words sank in.

That bastard.

He _knew_ that I had no clue where we were and that, though I could probably see the palace from the roof-top, it would take me ages to find a quick way home. He was _making _me ask for help!

Payback.

It was payback for last night. The idiot had figured me out. I hate having to ask for help. I'm independent and asking him for help was the last thing I wanted to do. But…

I eased my way down and walked over to him. I stared down at him, showing no emotions whatsoever, "Take me home, Altaїr."

I saw a flash of disappointment cross his face before he stood. Ha. I win. I didn't actually _ask_. AND I didn't argue. I smirked at him and waited for him to get up. Instead of standing, he swept his foot out and tried to knock me over. It worked, partially, but as I fell I used the momentum to flip over backwards and land in a crouch. I squeaked when Altaїr loomed above me, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He grabbed my wrist and threw me over his shoulder. I punched him in the kidneys but he ignored me and climbed up the wall with ease.

"You're an asshole!" I yelled before I could stop myself. He laughed loudly and ran from roof-top to roof-top, definitely not being gentle with me. The view from my angle was sickening, so I had to close my eyes and pretend I was elsewhere. Soon enough, however, Altaїr came to a halt. I opened my eyes, "FINALLY!"

He set me down somewhat gently and looked around. We were right under my balcony. "You can go now," I informed him before looking up and calling out, "BIYYA!"

"Are you sure everything is as it should be?" he asked in an odd voice. I looked at him curiously after Biyya had exclaimed and went to get the ladder. He shook his head at me, "I'm not sure what exactly, but something feels off."

The ladder tumbled down beside me. "Whatever you say, Altaїr," I started to climb up, then stopped to look at him, "Erm…thanks, I guess. For last night, and then this morning. And thanks for listening to me."

"Yeah." He turned and hurried away before calling softly over his shoulder, "Take care, Nadra."

I shook my head and continued up the ladder. Before I'd even swung my legs over I was pulled into a mind boggling, lung crushing embrace. "Biiiiyyya!" I managed to choke out, "T-too tight!!"

"My apologies, Lamya," she whispered and immediately released me, "Buy you had me worried! It's been very difficult keeping your disappearance a secret! What on earth happened to you, child?! You're covered in blood!"

I waved a hand dismissively, "I'll tell you later, I need to get cleaned up right now and go see Mother so she stops pestering you. Will you help me draw a bath and get fixed up?"

Biyya grabbed my arm and swung me around, giving me a stern look, "Only if you tell me what is going on."

"Fine." I rolled my eyes. And so I told her everything that happened. It took me the entire bath time, hair-fixing time, and dressing time to explain everything and answer her questions. When I had finished, we sat in my lounging area. I waited while she stared off into space.

"You are in trouble, my dear," she said softly.

"I know," I sighed with a smile. I didn't mind getting in trouble. It made my life more interesting.

-_knock knock knock-_

"Well then." I muttered and stood, making my way to the door. I had barely begun to pull on it when whoever it was wanting to enter threw it all the way open. I jumped back before I could be slammed into the wall and stared into my father's angry face. Oh no.

"WHERE have you been all morning?!" he bellowed.

I shrank back and thought of what to say. Biyya came to my rescue, "Sleeping sir, like I said. She hasn't been feeling well."

"I wasn't talking to you, Jathibiyya," Father's eyes flickered behind me before coming back to my face, "You, Lamya, get down stairs now. Put on a shemgah. You are to spend the day with Ghalib. Understand? He is in the main hall. Go."

I nodded, not wanting to upset him further. Besides, I figured I could help out Altaїr that way. Waving goodbye to Biyya, I slipped past my father, down the hall, and into the main hall. Ghalib bowed low and graceful, "It is good to see you well enough to join me."

"Yeah, whatever," I mumbled before remembering my 'mission'. Oops. I grinned at him, "I—I mean yes! Of course! Me too. I think we'll have an…enjoyable time, today."

"Indeed," he smiled and offered his arm. I tried not to make a face as I took it and allowed him to lead me out the front doors.

"Where are we going?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I thought we might go for a ride in the surrounding country and then have a picnic dinner." He replied happily, leading me towards the stables. Dinner?

"What time is it?" I asked suddenly.

"An hour or so past noon, why?" he looked at me curiously and I just shook my head. How Biyya kept my parents away from my room so long was beyond me. Though she and Father seemed to have some sort of understanding. I had actually seen her talk back to him once. Yeah, I know. Nerves of steel, I tell you.

When we reached the stables, I graciously let Ghalib help me saddle and mount up, even though it annoyed the hell out of me. I even let him lead the way out of the city and into the open, chattering on with him about random topics. I don't even know what we talked about, it was so boring. Weather or something. For three hours we rode around the outskirts Jerusalem, taking in the sites. I was perfectly fine with this; I love riding, especially in the country. It's so relaxing…but if only Ghalib was elsewhere. Like in the bottom of the ocean. I smiled at the mental image I got from that thought.

"Something amusing you?" Ghalib asked suddenly, pulling his horse up close to mine. I patted Abital when she nipped angrily at Ghalib's bay.

"Uh…" I glanced away in mock embarrassment as we made our way up the sloping mountain-side, "No, I'm just enjoying this so much."

Blech.

"Shall we stop hear for our supper, then?" he asked a few minutes later when we reached a lovely grassy area under a large tree. It over looked the city and was actually very pleasant. And, if there weren't several guards twenty yards behind us, I probably would have arranged for Ghalib to 'accidentally' fall over the edge of the cliff. I nodded and dismounted, removing Abital's bridle and saddle so she could graze and relax. My companion, on the other hand, simply tied up his horse, not even leaving enough slack for him to reach the grass. I sighed angrily and, as Ghalib set up the picnic, untied the bay gelding and removed the bridle.

"What are you doing?" Ghalib asked, coming over to watch me remove the horse's saddle. I felt my anger growing at his condescending tone.

"What does it look like?" I almost snapped, then forced myself to relax, "The horses need a rest."

"Well, they'll leave," he laughed, as if I was a stupid child. I ignored him for a bit and carefully set down the saddle and bridle in a neat pile. Then I stood and patted the gelding's neck, murmuring to him in soft Arabic. I could feel Ghalib's eyes on my back as I gave the horses instructions. If he had laughed I probably would have decked him. But he didn't, thankfully. In fact, when I sent the horse over to where Abital was eating and turned back to him, he was looking at me with something close to admiration.

"The horses really listen to you," he made it a statement, not a question. I answered anyway.

"Yes. I've made sure to spend as much time as possible with each mount. They all know and respect me, as I do them," I sat down as daintily as possible on the blanket, "Horses are extremely sensitive and intelligent creatures. You must always treat them with love and respect or they will turn on you."

Ghalib sat down beside me and cocked his head curiously, "How old are you again?"

"Seventeen," I answered automatically and picked up a mango to slice.

"You seem much older."

"Great!" I laughed sarcastically and fixed the mango into two separate portions. I love how juicy they are.

"No, it was meant as a compliment," he picked up one of the pieces and popped it into his mouth. "I honestly forgot your age for a moment, and thought you older than I."

I raised and eyebrow, "And what would that be, my lord?"

"Twenty-two. And don't call me that."

"Aye-aye," I flinched, realizing that I _had_ to start thinking before opening my mouth. I'm always getting myself in trouble that way. But, instead of being reprimanded, Ghalib simply chuckled and selected a piece of bread and cheese, handing me half of each. We ate in silence for a while and I couldn't take it anymore.

"So why are you spending so much time with my father?" I didn't expect him to share too much with me, but I was hoping he'd tell me _something_. Even with my doubt, though, I batted my eyelashes. Pssshya. Like that ever works.

"Well…" he looked off into the sky, "Your father and I are working together to put a stop to a pesky group of assassins in the area."

"Assassins?" my eyes grew wide.

"Yes. They are killing off the leaders of the cities and must be stopped," he took a gargantuan bite from the bread and cheese, waiting to swallow before speaking again, "We're getting closer. They have a bureau in Jerusalem, and we're narrowing it down. I believe we'll find it soon."

"Goody," I laughed nervously. Ghalib looked at me oddly.

"In fact…perhaps you can help me," I blinked at him and he just smiled, "I know you spend a lot of time in the Poor District. Perhaps you can investigate a bit for me and dig up some useful information."

I glanced away, wondering why everyone was coming to me for information. "Lamya," I looked back at him, "There will be something in it for you."

"And what would that be?" I asked suspiciously.

Ghalib took my hand and leaned in close, "Your father irritates you, I know. You find him to be insufferable. He knows that. He is very tough on you and I can take that away," I raised an eyebrow at him and he kissed my hand. Uh-oh. "Lamya, I would be honored to take you as my wife. You wouldn't have to do anything but be happy. I'd build you a lavish farm outside Damascus where you could live as long as you want and ride horses every day. I would leave you to yourself for as much as possible. I can offer you an escape from this hell-hole. I can make your life bliss."

I looked away and chewed my bottom lip. If only it were that easy. But Altaïr said I couldn't marry him. I didn't want to marry him. I knew he and my father were up to something. And yet the offer sounded slightly appealing. I resisted the urge to shake my head and looked back at him, "Ghalib, you are very kind, and that is a wonderful proposal, but I'm just not sure yet. Please, let me think on your words."

"Of course," Ghalib dropped my hand and went back to his food.

The rest of the evening was simple enough, though he didn't talk as much. Was I supposed to bend to his each and every word? Was that what he expected? Oh well. We finished our meal and made our way back to Jerusalem. The whole way back I wondered if I should go to the well or courtyard and try to contact Altaïr or not.

* * *

The tiny courtyard was mostly dark, though the sun wouldn't set for another hour. Regardless, I hated it. I like the dark, usually, but for some reason that particular area was not a good place to be in the dark. Or at least that's what I felt. I sat down on the edge of the fountain and drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs to wait. I really didn't know if he would even show or not, seeing as he hadn't instructed me to come, but I felt I should try. What Ghalib had said to me was strange. And I was perplexed as to why he told me so much so quickly.

"Is something wrong, Nadra?" a voice asked softly from behind me. I stood quickly and turned to see Altaïr materialize from the shadows and make his way to me.

"I need to talk to you," I said simply and shrugged, "Nothing's wrong…just…well I'm a bit confused." I sat down on the ledge and sighed. God, I'm tired. Altaïr sat down beside me.

"What happened?"

I told him about my evening with Ghalib and what he had told me about searching out the assassins. I sensed him tense beside me, and realized something.

"Altaïr?"

"Hm?"

"You do understand that I know you're an assassin, right?" My words were greeted by silence, so I continued, "I mean, I've been working it out since that first day you saved me from those idiotic guards. And for some reason, as I figured it out, it didn't bother me. But now…I just don't know. Are you and your…'brothers', or whatever you call them, working for good? Do you kill just to kill or do you take on contracts?"

"Now is not the time for that." he finally mumbled.

"I need to know," I said angrily, standing up to pace. I was so confused. I heard him sigh in the growing dark.

"We take orders from our Master. He tells us who to eliminate and why. It is always because of the target's wrong-doings. So I wouldn't call us evil. But I wouldn't call us good either," I glanced at him. He shrugged and stood, rotating his injured shoulder, "That is all I will say right now."

"Fine," I sighed, not one-hundred percent happy with his explanation.

"When is your father going to announce your engagement?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't know," I groaned, not wanting to think about it, "At the end of the week, I guess. Ugh…"

"That is not good," he said thoughtfully, "If we cannot stop them soon, you will have to leave."

"Say what?" I turned and stared at him.

"You heard me, Nadra," he waved his hand dismissively, "You know you can't marry him, so you may have to go into hiding for a bit."

"I don't want to go into hiding," I pointed out, "And why do you call me Nadra?"

"Because it is your name," he said as if I was blind and stupid, "And it doesn't matter what you want. If you have to, you will go into hiding. Even if I have to kidnap you."

"What?!"

"Actually," he added as an afterthought, "That may work very well."

"Um, okay first off, my name is _Lamya_," I laughed in a snotty manner, "And second, I am not going _anywhere_ with you."

"Hm. Well, I don't like Lamya. Nadra suits you better. And it _is_ one of your names," he stretched a bit and turned to go, "I'll have some more information for you later. Your attitude deters me from telling you right now. And you're wrong. I can be _very_ persuasive."

"Yeah, sure," I rolled my eyes, getting very angry, "I'm telling you right now, I will not go into hiding, and I will never go anywhere with you against my will."

He waved his hand back at me and slipped down one of the shadowed alleys. "And stop calling me Nadra, you asshole!" I called after him, shaking my fists in the air. A low chuckle floated out to me and I turned on my heel, stomping back to the main street, angrier than ever. The _nerve_ of that man! Who is he to think what he says is law! Well, I'd show him! There was no way on God's green earth I would go into hiding, especially with the likes of him!

_

* * *

_

A/N: Yay! A longer chappie! Please tell me what you think! I loooooove to hear from you guys! And check out my poll, I'm going to be closing it sometime next week! (week of April 21-25, one of those days)

_Heh, and I sooo had to restrain myself with the horsie talk. I'm so excited right now cause a friend of mine at work is going away soon and I am going to get to take care of her horse for a week! YAY! So days I don't work I'm gonna go RIDING! Gosh, I have such a passion for riding. _


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: -sighs- Still waiting for Altaïr to get back to me on the whole 'owning' thing. As of right now I _still_ don't own him. Ohhh...Altaïr. –hugs plushy- Thanks for the plushy, xXxSilentxXxAssassinxXx, by the way!_

**

* * *

**

Nothing is Right

Okay. It was official. I _had_ to kill myself. Pacing my bedroom impatiently, I contemplated just throwing myself off the balcony. I even went out and peered over the railing, wondering how much it would hurt if the fall didn't kill me. But then Biyya grabbed me around the waist and hauled me back, kicking and screaming, into my room, where she threw me on the bed.

"Don't. Even. Think about it," she growled. Yipes, that woman can be scary when she wants to.

"But Biyyyyya!" I whined, "I can't go on living like this!"

"Everything will be _fine_, Lamya," Biyya said softly, trying and failing to comfort me, "We'll work something out."

"NO! No we won't!" I exclaimed, jumping up from the bed. I paced back and forth, trying not to hyperventilate. I had to do something. I couldn't…I wouln't! Oh my GOD! What was I going to DO?!

A white blur shot into my room from my balcony. I screamed and leapt backwards, falling into my sunken seating area. Biyya was suddenly in front of me defensively, blocking my view of the intruder, "GET OUT!" she yelled, brandishing a sword she had retrieved from God knows where, "Get out now, or I'll run you through!"

"Silence, I'm here on business."

I blinked several times. Hey! I know that voice. Wrestling my way up and out of the multitude of cushions, I tugged at Biyya's dress, "Back off, Biyya. I know him. It's fine."

Biyya stared at me for a while before stepping to the side, shooting an angry glare at Altaïr. I ignored her and caught the assassin's gaze, "Help me." I pleaded. He immediately offered a hand to pull me up. I scowled at him, but accepted the hand up anyway, "Not that way, idiot. With my PROBLEM."

"The marriage?" he asked softly, releasing my hand the moment I was steady on my feet. I nodded.

"Is this who I think it is?" Biyya asked, sounding slightly confused.

"Altaïr, Biyya. Biyya, Altaïr," I said quickly before sighing loudly, "Now HELP ME!"

Altaïr grabbed my arm gently and turned me to face him, "What exactly happened? I know your father announced your engagement to Ghalib, but I didn't think that would upset you so much."

I could feel my breathing picking up. Not good. Oh well. I pulled away from him and began to pace again, "After father publicly announced the engagement, he took my family and Ghalib to a private room where he informed us that this evening we would be leaving for Damascus, where Ghalib and I would be married in a quiet service at the idiot's home. He doesn't want to this to go public, so I can't leave. There are guards everywhere! He wants me to start packing! We're leaving in a few hours! What am I going to do! I CAN'T MARRY HIM! I WON'T MARRY HIM! THIS IS TOO MUCH I'M GONNA—"

-_SMACK-_

I blinked as my cheek burned. Slowly, I raised my hand to cup the side of my face, hoping to put out the fire from the backhand. I looked at Altaïr gravely, "Thank you. I needed that."

"Anytime. Really," he smiled and then turned serious, "Nadra, you must pack now."

"What?!" I could feel myself beginning to freak out again, "But you said you wouldn't…I thought you didn't want me to marry him!"

"I don't," Altaïr pointed out and accepted the bag Biyya wordlessly handed to him. She went and sat on the bed, staring off into space with a sad expression. I watched as the assassin began to go through my wardrobe, shoving random articles of clothing into the bag. And then I understood what was happening, and what had to happen.

"Biyya."

She looked up at me. I went over and hugged her, "You have to leave now. I'm being kidnapped and you have to run for help."

"Wh-what?" she gasped. I shook my head and went to help Altaïr.

"It's the only way. Now go. Please," I refused to look at her, tears burning in my eyes. I heard her leave after a few minutes. A few seconds later Altaïr signaled for me to follow him.

So this was what it was like to be kidnapped.

* * *

"Altaïr! Wait a moment!" I called before making my way down the side of the building. He glanced over the edge at me.

"Nadra! We don't have time for this!" he hissed angrily.

"Just wait there!" I jumped the rest of the way, landing roughly, and hurried down the alley, "I won't be long!"

"Nadra!" I heard him say as softly as possible, "Come back!"

I waved a hand dismissively over my shoulder without looking back, completely ignoring his command. Making good time, I twisted down the streets of the Poor District, counting the door numbers. Not long after I left Altaïr, I slid to a halt, knocking rapidly on the door before me.

"Please be home, please be home, please be home," I whispered, almost jumping for joy when the door opened, revealing a drowsy R'ad. He blinked several times and then gaped at me.

"Fatin!" he grinned and stepped back, allowing me to step in, "What brings you by this fine afternoon?"

I waited for him to shut the door. "I don't have a lot of time," I said hurriedly in a quiet voice, "I'm leaving, R'ad. I came to say goodbye."

He stared at me for a long time before slumping into the only chair in the tiny entry hall, "Why?"

"It's too hard to explain, but I must go now. You're pretty much my only friend, so I figured I should say goodbye to you." He looked away from me, hurt.

"What about the kids at the orphanage? What about Kelia?" he asked softly.

"I couldn't bear it," I shook my head to fight off tears, "Seeing their faces would tear me up and make me want to stay. I _can't_ stay."

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking at me again. When I didn't respond he growled in frustration, catching my arm before I could turn to go. "Fatin please. Before you leave, let me see your face. Let me know who you are."

"Do you really want that, R'ad?" I studied him seriously. He thought about it and nodded. I sighed and began to remove my shemgah, "You cannot tell anyone."

When I let the cloth drop away to hang limp in my hand at my side, R'ad's eyes grew wide. He took several steps back and covered his mouth with his hands. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes, "No…" he murmured, "No, you can't be the…no."

"I'm sorry, R'ad," I said earnestly and covered myself again. I watched him for a moment and he eventually opened his eyes to meet mine.

"I wanted to court you. You are…so different from other women I know," he reached out and pushed the shemgah down again to study my face and hair, and whatever else he wanted to see. I let him briefly run his fingers through my ever-growing locks. He was the only man I was really comfortable with. The only man I really liked. It was very difficult leaving.

"I'm sorry," I said again. And then his eyes narrowed.

"Is this about your newly announced engagement?"

I didn't answer, unsure as to what I should say. So instead I covered my hair and mouth, turning to leave. He laid his hands on both my shoulders. "It is…" he said in wonderment. And then he rested his chin on my shoulder, "There is an easy fix for this, Fa…Lamya, if I may call you that."

"Of course you can call me that, R'ad," I sighed, suddenly very tired, "You are my friend. And what on earth are you talking about?"

He wrapped his arms around me from behind and the moment turned awkward. At least for me. I was uncomfortable for the first time with him. I didn't want him to get all lovey-dovey with me. "Lamya…" he whispered in my ear, "Marry me and then you _can't_ marry that rich merchant. You _know_ I would be good to you and—"

"No." I said sternly, pushing away from him and turning around. He let his arms drop uselessly to his side and gazed at me sadly, "No, R'ad. This is much bigger than that. And I don't want to marry you. I'm sorry, but right now marriage is the last thing on my mind. You are the only man I get along with, so remember that. You will always have a special place in my heart."

And then I walked out the door, praying I hadn't made a mistake with showing him who I was. But I trusted him. The only thing that had gone wrong was his proposal. Ugh…why did everyone suddenly want to marry me? I sighed inwardly and made my way back to the building where I'd left Altaïr. When I climbed to the top, however, he was nowhere to be seen. So I sat down next to my abandoned bag, willing myself not to cry, and waited.

"That was stupid," he said from behind me I stood slowly and turned around. He walked towards me and picked up my bag, "You'd better hope he doesn't say anything to anyone. If you didn't actually care about him, I would have killed him then and there."

"And you'd better be glad you _didn't_ kill him," I snapped, reverting to rage. Rage is so much better than depression. I followed him from roof-top to roof-top as quickly as possible, "Because if you had, then I would have made your life a living hell."

"I'm sure you would have," he replied sarcastically when he came to a halt. I looked around and realized we were on the roof of the bureau.

"Why are we here?" I asked.

"Because you can't leave the city right now." Altaïr shot me a look that said, 'no shit, duh'. I scowled at him, but followed him down anyway, hoping nobody saw us. Throwing my bag into the corner, he entered the bureau, slamming the door behind him. I went over and tugged on it, but it wouldn't open. He'd locked it.

"Bastard!" I spat before turning back to the cushions, where I sank down, wondering what would happen with my life. Not long ago the bells had gone off, announcing an emergency. Announcing my 'kidnapping'. I wrapped my arms around myself, wishing I had packed a blanket, and tried _very _hard not to cry. I hate crying. It makes me feel weak. I hadn't cried in years and wasn't about to. So I forced myself to think of other things.

Altaïr.

Yes, that would work nicely. How he enraged me, and yet I was stuck with him, dammit! I wondered what would have happened if I had refused to help him that night in the courtyard. Would he really have killed me? And if he had, would it have been so bad? Ugh…regardless, I was in a pickle now, and Altaïr was the vinegar. Damn him and his arrogance. And his attitude. And his haughtiness. And his 'oh look at me, I'm naked' incident.

Okay bad idea to think of that. Really bad. Yuck. Why did someone with such a…nice body…have to have such a rotten attitude? (1)

The door suddenly opened and Altaïr stepped out. "We're going to be a while in here," he threw an apple at me, "So don't wait up."

I stared at the apple in my hands and started to say how apples messed up my mouth and throat but he was already shutting the door behind him. I stared at the door as if I could force it to open with my mind, but soon gave up, rolling the apple across a cushion with my hands. I sighed and threw the apple away from me, not caring that it partially exploded when it hit the other end of the 'room'. I lay down and closed my eyes, pretending I was somewhere else and failing miserably. I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the growing cold.

God this sucks.

* * *

I woke warm and toasty, though not all that comfortable, and it was still dark. Sitting up, I pushed the blanket off of me and…wait. Blanket? It was nice, think wool. Hand woven. When did I get that? I mentally shrugged, oh well. My shemgah had fallen off in the night but I didn't care. Noticing the open bureau door, I stood, wrapping the blanket around myself, and padded into the small building. Malak was behind a counter, writing letters galore.

"Morning?" I wondered, having no clue as to what time it was.

"Indeed, Lamya," he smiled at me before going back to his work. I found a bench nearby and sat down. He glanced up at me again, "Did you sleep alright?"

"Um…yeah," I looked down at myself and decided to make an assumption. "Thanks for the blanket."

"Don't thank me," he said absentmindedly, "Altaïr put it on you."

I looked around for said jackass assassin, but he was nowhere to be found, "So…" I turned back to Malak, "Where is he?"

"Gone. He'll probably be back tomorrow evening."

I stared at him for several seconds. "What do you mean, gone, Malak?"

He looked up at me like I was stupid, "As in, not here. He left Jerusalem after our discussion to speak with our master. He wants to see if you can stay at our headquarters until we figure out a way to deal with this."

When he went back to his work I stood angrily and stormed out to where my bag was. Not caring that there was a man no more than fifty feet away from me, I changed into a cruddy disdasha, pants, and shemgah before slipping on my shoes. I made to climb up the wall but Malak materialized out of nowhere.

"Where are you going, Lamya?" he asked sternly. I shot a cool look over my shoulder.

"Out. I'm not sitting around here to wait a day and a half for that idiot."

"No, please do not do that Lamya," he commanded more than pleaded. I sighed.

"Look, I won't get caught and I will come back, I promise." I smiled, even though he couldn't see my mouth, "I can take care of myself."

He was silent for a long time before nodding gravely. I thanked him and hurried up and out of the bureau.

* * *

After leaving the bureau I had watched the sun rise, then gone to the local market to purchase a strawberry tart. So yummy. I had strolled around for an hour or two and then checked back in with Malak. We both agreed that I should check in every two hours, and so I did.

It was early afternoon when I was by the river and everything went wrong.

I had done nothing wrong, just leaned against the rail and watched the ducks and fishes, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see R'ad. Uh-oh.

"I thought you were leaving, Lamya," he said angrily.

"My name isn't Lamya…" I said, pretending to be confused in case someone was listening, though I doubted it.

"Whatever. Why did you lie to me?" he demanded.

"R'ad, I _am_ leaving. Just…arrangements have to be made…" I trailed off and looked away as some guards walked by. I was starting to regret going out.

"I think you are still lying."

I turned back to him angrily, "Why would I lie about that, R'ad?!"

"Because you're…nobility." He looked away, "You were just playing with me, right? At the festival all those times."

"No I wasn't!" I cried, "I was myself! I can _be_ myself around you, don't you understand?"

"No. I don't," and then he turned and walked away. I scowled and looked back over the river, fighting off tears once again in less than a twenty-four hour time span. Not a good thing. I pushed away from the rail and started to make my way down the street, intent on returning to the bureau and staying there. And then I saw R'ad talking to the guards. I immediately turned on a dime and went the other way, cursing myself for trusting him, and R'ad just in general.

It was when the clink of metal grew loud behind me that I began to panic. "You there!" A guard called, "In the black disdasha and shemgah! HALT!"

"Shit," I mumbled under my breath, not breaking my stride. "Damn you, R'ad."

"SOMEONE STOP HER!" the guard yelled and I heard everyone begin to panic. I broke into a run, pushing the people foolish enough to get in my way to the ground. I couldn't let me catch me! Oh God, it would be so bad if they caught me!

I turned down a random alley, trying to remember an easy way back to the bureau. After scaling the side of the building I paused, realizing I couldn't lead the guards right to the bureau. So I'd have to lose them. I cursed again and took off at a run, leaping from roof-top to roof-top. I was headed to a particular difficult leap when a guard stepped out from behind a roof garden. He close lined me, knocking me on by backside. As I tried to catch my breath and prayed none of my bones were broken, the guard grabbed me by the collar of my disdasha and hauled me to my feet. I shrieked when he swiftly ripped off my shemgah.

"She's here!" he called out, holding tightly onto my arm as I tried to escape, "I found her! That guy wasn't lying!"

I went completely still then, earning a confused glance from the guard. I smirked at him, then brought my knee up into his groin. He must have had a bit of protection, because he didn't go down. And trust me, if he wouldn't have had armor, he would have been down for a _long_ time. Regardless, it threw him for a loop and I was able to wrench my arm out of his grip. While he was slightly distracted, I swung around in a full circle, kicking him in the jaw. He fell backwards over the edge of the building with a scream. I turned to run away and—

There were thirteen guards forming a semi-circle before me. Damn.

* * *

(1) Bwahaha! Notice the irony here?

_A/N: Daaaaaang I'm throwin these chapters out! I hope they don't…suck. Heh. Please leave review! I loooove to hear from you! And I respond to every review left! And thanks to all who voted on the poll! I've taken it down; the verdict has been reached. (And I've run out of time cause the chapter with the mehbe lemon is coming up. XD) Thanks my luvers!_

_Oh yes, and I have Ch9 and 10 complete, but I'm contemplating not putting them up till Monday, just to torture you. What'dya think? -evil grin-_

_-Estrella-_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Well…sorry to 'disappoint', but I can't think up anything witty right now, lol. So this is what ya get:_

_I DUN OWN ASSASSIN'S CREED! No matter how much I love Alty, he won't be mine… -sigh-_

_And yes, what an ominous title. DUN-DUN-DAAAAAHN!_

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Discoveries, Death and Dismay

"Lamya," My father loomed over me, "You will marry Ghalib. Now."

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at him. After the guards had captured me and brought me home, Father had stuck me, along with Ghalib, Mother, and Biyya, in a private sitting room. I have no clue why Biyya was there, but I was okay with it; she was keeping me from killing myself or Father.

"No," I said sternly.

"Well then, it's a good thing your opinion doesn't matter," he snapped, face red with anger. He gripped my arm painfully, "The priest is already on his way. You are to be married tonight."

I felt my face grow pale. I glanced at Biyya who looked absolutely sick, and Ghalib looked almost guilty. Mother looked passive. "Father…please…" I begged, "I don't want to marry him…"

"What did I just say?!" he roared.

"I think what you said is a load of crap," I snapped, glaring up at him, "In order for us to be married, _I_ have to agree and say 'I do'!"

"I know that," Father smirked. Uh-oh. With a snap of his fingers he summoned two guards. They seized Biyya under the arms and drew daggers, holding them to her throat and belly. I gasped.

"FATHER NO!"

"This is how it must be, Lamya," he said softly, "Now marry Ghalib, or I will kill her."

"Do NOT do it, Nadra!" Biyya screamed, "They will kill me anyway!"

Confused, I closed my eyes and shook my head. I had no clue what to do. "Shut up, Jathibiyya!" I heard my mother yell, and she never yelled. I opened my eyes and stared in awe at Mother as she pointed at Biyya, "Do not listen to this woman, she is scum!"

"She is not!" I cried out.

"You don't know that!" Mother screamed.

"Yes I do," I said quietly.

"No," she started to argue, "She—"

"I am your mother!" Biyya suddenly exclaimed. We all froze and stared at her. Well, I stared at her. Mother looked away in embarrassment and Father's face went another shade darker. Ghalib looked indifferent.

"Wh-what?" I stammered.

Biyya struggled against the guard's hold, "Your father had an affair with me because his wife couldn't and still can't bear children! So when I got pregnant the three of us decided to tell people it was her child, not mine. The only conditions I had was that I give you one of your names and get to take care of you, as your nurse."

I looked at my father, "Is this true?"

He nodded gravely and I slowly understood. Some sick part of Biyya loved my father. And that was why she had never left. Never married. I wish I had known she was my true mother all along. It made me regret the way I treated her when I had a bad day or if I blew her off for small, petty things. I couldn't let anything bad happen to her…and though I was still a bit in shock, I made up my mind.

"I'll do it," I said softly, "but only if you swear not to hurt Biyya…my mother."

"Done," Father said readily, nodding to the guard who stepped back, releasing Bi—my mother, I mean. It was odd thinking of that, and calling her that, after so many years of knowing her simply as Biyya. I shook my head and turned to the door when it opened. In walked a priest, right on cue.

And it wasn't just any priest.

It was Jalal Khayrat. The biggest hypocrite in Jerusalem.

I felt my mouth fall open as he walked over to my father, "Is everything and everyone ready?" he asked gravely. My father nodded and he smile, "Good. Bride and Ghalib, here please."

Ghalib walked over and grabbed my arm, dragging me up before Khayrat. I glared at him, contemplating blurting out his secret right then and there. But it didn't seem like a prudent time, so I kept my mouth shut as he started the 'service.'

And all I could think was why on earth am I doing this? I did want to save Biyya, but she said they'd kill her anyway. Would they really? I prayed not. Another thought that crossed my mind was how I had failed Altaïr and the others. But…my mother, my friend, Biyya would be safe. I couldn't sacrifice her for a group of assassins. No way.

But then why did I feel so lousy. Like I had made a mistake?

I mentally shook away the feeling. This will work out, I told myself, Biyya is safe and you can fix this. Just give it time.

"Lamya!" my father's voice sliced through my thoughts. I looked around and the small group was watching me expectantly.

"I do?" I said randomly, hoping that answered the question. As soon as I said it I felt as if a hammer had slammed into my gut. I didn't want to marry Ghalib.

Someone was crying behind me, and I think it was Biyya. I guess I can't get used to calling her mother…oh well. When I'm married to Ghalib I'll have more power and will instate her as…something. A higher rank and I'll spend every day with her. I wanted to smile at that, but couldn't, seeing as I just realized as Ghalib's wife he had the right to take me to his bed whenever he wanted.

And I did _not_ want that.

Honestly, I had never been kissed before, besides the hand by suitors and on the nose that one time. But that didn't count. I was in a mess now.

Before I knew it Khayrat had finished and pronounced us husband and wife. And then my cheeks were wet. I reached up gingerly and wiped away the tears as Ghalib went off to be congratulated by my father. I stared at my hands in shock, wondering what I had just done. A hand touched my shoulder and I turned to find Biyya, her own cheeks stained with tears. I let her draw me into an embrace and she cried with me.

"Get off her, now," my 'mother' commanded from behind me. I turned to stare at her with cold eyes, my tears drying up immediately as anger overwhelmed me.

"Do not talk to her that way," I snapped.

She walked over near me, "Shut up, Lamya, you know nothing. You would _be_ nothing if it weren't for me. I took you as my own daughter, and if I hadn't you would have been out on the streets," she then turned to Biyya, folding her arms over her chest, "And you, whore, have done enough here, I think."

And then she threw herself at Biyya.

I wasn't fast enough.

I tried, but I wasn't fast enough.

When the guards and Father finally wrestled her off of my true mother, she had already stabbed her three times in the chest. I screamed and collapsed immediately, having to drag myself over to Biyya, where I cradled her head in my lap as she slipped away.

"Mother…" I whispered, tears spilling once again down my flushed cheeks.

"Nadra…" she groaned, "I love you…my daughter…"

"I love you too, mother!" I sobbed, but I was too late. She died before the words could even be formed in my mouth. I expected to be washed over with grief, but instead I felt numb. I stood slowly and walked away from everyone as they scampered around, trying to clean up the mess and figure out what went wrong and where. I tuned them out and leaned against the wall, suddenly very dizzy. I closed my eyes and started to sink to the floor, but didn't move fast enough.

I blacked out.

* * *

I woke with a terrible migraine. And to make matters worse, I was chained to my own bed. There was enough slack that I could walk around a bit, and even sit down in my sunken rest area, but I couldn't go far. So I just laid down on my cushions and stared up at the ceiling. I tried to not think of Biyya…my mother…and how that wretched woman I _thought_ had been my mother had killed her. I closed my eyes, willing myself to forget. But it didn't work. I had to find something else to think of. But everything I thought of led to Biyya.

Altaïr.

Thoughts of Altaïr leads to anger. I settled back and recalled every moment I had spent with him over the past two weeks. And it worked. All I could concentrate on was his infuriating attributes.

And I was content.

For a while. Because then Ghalib showed up. He walked into my room with an arrogant manner and plopped down beside me.

"Hello, wife," he grinned, playing with my hair. I frowned at him and closed my eyes, turning my back on him. He touched my side, "Well that isn't very fair. I wanted to _play._"

Ugh…I sniffed loudly, "No, I don't want to play. Besides, what happened to 'I'll leave you alone as much as possible'?"

"Well, my dear, that was only if you agreed to help me," he pointed out. I didn't have the energy to move or make a snide remark, so I just stayed still and wondered if I could kill myself by thinking hard enough of my heart stopping. Lips suddenly brushed against my cheek and I stiffened.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a panicky voice, trying to squirm away from him, but failing because of the chains on my wrists and his arm that had somehow snaked around my waist.

"You're my wife, aren't you?" he purred.

"Don't remind me," I spat, elbowing him in the ribs. He grunted and moved away from me.

"Fine. Be that way. But I will have you tonight," he stood and left me laying there. I wondered what time it was, oblivious to the answer. I was guessing afternoon, judging by the light pouring in from the balcony, but it was difficult to tell. I sighed and curled up into a small ball, thinking of Altaïr again. I had to. I couldn't think of anything else, it would be too painful.

And then I heard footsteps approaching, quickly and quietly. I sat up and looked around. The curtains that covered most of the sitting area stirred and then parted, revealing none other than Altaïr.

Before I could stop myself I gasped and threw myself at him. He caught me easily and held me to him, letting me hug the bejeezus out of him. "Help me, Altaïr," I whispered, "Get me out of here…I've done something horrible."

"I know," he said quietly in a monotonous tone. I pried myself off of him, embarrassed with how I had acted. I stared down at my bonds.

"Key," I mumbled stupidly.

"I know," he repeated in the same voice and produced a small metal key from his waist band. I raised and eyebrow.

"I came here earlier and saw you. So I stole the key," he quickly unlocked the wrist-cuffs and took them off. I rotated my hands and was pleased to find them not stiff at all.

"Altaïr…" I looked up at him sadly.

"Nadra," he placed a hand on my shoulder, "I over heard the last conversation. I _know_."

"Don't let him…take me," I whispered, tears burning in my eyes. He sighed.

"I won't. Come on, then," he turned and without waiting for me, walked to the balcony. When we were out in the open I tugged on his sleeve.

"Hn?" he glanced down at me, completely expressionless.

"I'm so, so sorry for messing everything up…" I muttered.

"I'm sure there was a legitimate reason for it," he said quietly, though he didn't seem to believe it. He held out his hand and I took it. Swinging me around onto his back, he instructed me to hold on tight with my arms and legs. And then he climbed down the side of the palace.

"Where are we going?" I asked when we reached the bottom and I dropped down. He led the way over to the wall.

"You'll see, though we have a long ride ahead of us," he helped me up and over the wall; for some reason I didn't have the energy to move myself over. I nodded and followed him absently, letting him help me when I needed it. I had no clue where we were going, and didn't even care. I just did as I was told.

As always.

_

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_

A/N: Okay, a short chappie, but I felt I should end it. I've been a writing hog today, and I hope it hasn't made the chapters crappy. Let me know if they are and I'll take them down and fix them.

_And just a forewarning, the next chapter is a _lemon_. So, in case you don't want to read it for some reason, skip the next chappie. It will only be my second or third lemon, so it may not be very good, heh. But you guys voted and told me to write one, so I am! Plus I've thought up a good way to happen and keep Alty in character. :P Review please!! I'd love to hear from you! And as always, I promise to write you back!_

_-Estrella-_


	10. Chapter 10

_WARNING!! This chappie contains a (hopefully well written) lemon! If you wish to keep your virgin eyes and mind, dun read this chapter!!_

_And I dun own Altaïr. If I did, well…this chappie may explain what I'd do with him, bwahahaha. _

_Just kidding._

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**Pain and Pleasure**

I sat at the window, staring out into the night sky. It had taken us nearly a full day to reach Masayf, the stronghold and village that was the home and headquarters to the assassins. I hadn't really noticed the details of its location or sites. I'd just let Altaïr lead me into the fortress and to a bedroom in one of the towers. There he had left me and had yet to return. So I sat at the window and stared.

The events of the previous evening kept running through my head.

R'ad betrayed me.

Father forced me to marry.

Biyya was my mother.

Who I _thought_ was my mother _killed_ my real mother.

And Biyya was dead.

I had disappointed Altaïr.

And Biyya was _dead_.

I laid my head in my arms and cried, not able to hold back the tears and grief any longer. I don't know how long I sat there crying, but eventually a knock at the door snapped me out of my depressed stupor. I stood, shuffling over and opened the door a crack. It was Altaïr. I opened the door all the way and let him enter. He went over and sat down on the bed.

"Malak said I need to talk with you," he said quietly. I blinked in confusion.

"Malak is here?"

"Yes," his eyes narrowed, "He traveled with us from Jerusalem, don't you remember?"

"Hm…" I leaned my back against the wall, "I didn't notice…"

"You were in a bit of a daze," he pointed out. I nodded and looked away.

"Nadra, what happened?" he finally asked, sounding tired and a bit aggravated. I guess he has a reason. I'm too much of a burden. I sighed and slid to a sitting position on the floor.

"Father threatened to kill Biyya if I didn't marry Ghalib. I panicked and Biyya said not to because they'd kill her anyway," I stared at the floor, willing the burning tears to leave, "And then…that idiot my father married started yelling about Biyya being a horrid person. Biyya confessed to being my mother and…"

"You married Ghalib to save your newfound mother," Altaïr guessed, even though he already knew he was right. I nodded and refused to look at him. He continued to press, however, "What happened then?"

I opened my mouth to tell him but instead a chocked sob came out. I covered my mouth with my hands and closed my eyes, but it was too late.

My whole body shook with sobs as I finally lost it. Before I had cried lightly, but this was different. I couldn't hold it in and I soon moaned loudly as my heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I was barely aware of being lifted off the floor and cradled against someone's chest. A tiny voice in the back of my mind told me it was Altaïr, but right then, I didn't care. I think he may have sat down on the bed, but I wasn't sure. And still didn't care. I clung to him like he was the last lifeline I had. And he let me. Time passed slowly, and I don't know if he held me for ten minutes or ten hours. All I know is that an eternity later I couldn't cry anymore. It seemed to be that my tears were used up. So I lay quietly in his arms, clinging to his pristine, white clothes. I had never felt so…vulnerable and weak. And I hated it. But I was too worn out to care.

"Nadra?"

I looked up at Altaïr with weary eyes. He cocked his head, "Being this vulnerable doesn't suite you."

I frowned and racked my brain for a retort, but then something happened.

He kissed me.

My mind went blank and before I could wake up enough to shove him off, he pulled back. I stared at him and then snapped back to reality. I quickly pulled out of his hold and stumbled to my feet, whirling on him.

"What the hell was that for, you freak?" I practically screamed. He smiled evilly.

"Now that's the Nadra I know," he stood and stretched, cracking his neck loudly. I glared at him.

"You had better explain yourself right now."

"Or what?" he asked with a smirk, walking towards me. I backed up until I bumped into the wall. He didn't stop until he was only inches from me.

"I'll hurt you," I said, raising my fist. He quickly caught my wrist in his hand and snatched up the other one. I gasped and moved to knee him but he pressed himself against me, trapping me against the wall.

"Go ahead and try," he whispered in my ear. My eyes grew wide and I struggled against his hold.

But it was no use. He was so much stronger than me. I cursed under my breath as he laughed in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. What the hell was he doing?

"Get off me you bastard!" I yelled, trying to push him off and _still_ failing. He pulled his head back to look me in the eye, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

"No," he said smartly, and then kissed me again. I blinked several times and couldn't help but close my eyes as his mouth moved against mine. It was only the second time I'd been kissed, and I'm man enough to admit I was curious. He nibbled my lower lip and I whimpered.

"What…?" he murmured against my mouth without breaking the kiss, "Not going to fight back? Are you that weak?"

I could feel my anger rising and I bit his lip. Hard. He inhaled deeply but didn't jerk back, like I wanted him to. I had planned on headbutting him. Instead he bit back, just as hard. And the worst part?

I liked it. A lot.

I jerked away this time as much as I could. Altaïr didn't try to kiss me again, just brushed his lips along my cheek and jawbone to my ear. I tried to turn away but he caught the lobe in his mouth and nibbled on it. I froze again and tried to remember how to breathe as my eyelids fluttered shut. I was lost in the sensation of his warm tongue working the soft flesh of my ear between his teeth. Every now and then he would bite down, relatively hard, and I was still embarrassed for liking the pain. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Altaïr," I gasped and pushed against him again, much weaker this time, however, "Get off me! Stop it!"

He just chuckled, though, and kissed the skin of my neck, right below my ear. I swallowed a moan as he nibbled and bit, harder and harder, working his way slowly down the side of my neck. He pushed down the shoulder of my dress and bit down hard on the muscle of my shoulder. I couldn't stop the gasp and moan this time. It just felt so good. I almost told him harder, but clamped my mouth shut. No. I would not let him know I enjoyed this. But my previous noise of satisfaction had already tipped him off, and he bit the same area again, taking a great amount of flesh and muscle into his mouth. He clamped down, flicking his tongue over the skin trapped in his mouth and once again a loud moan escaped me. I tried to fight it, but I was _really_ enjoying what he was doing.

"Al-ta-ïr," I managed to stutter out, "No-no…don't…"

He laughed again and licked the area he bit, which was throbbing almost pleasantly. I guess it wasn't just me who heard the lack of command in my voice. He pressed his body closer to mine and kissed me roughly on the mouth, probing at my lips with his tongue. I didn't know what I was doing though, and didn't really want his tongue in my mouth. The notion seemed disgusting.

But apparently I took to long to respond. He raised my hands about my head and transferred both my wrists to his right hand. Then, with his left, he trailed lightly down my side, tickling over my ribs. He let his hand wander down to my backside, where he ran his finger over my buttocks. I gasped, just as he wanted, and he slipped his tongue into my mouth.

It was very awkward, at first. I tried to jerk back but he just pressed closer. And then, as usual, I grew curious. As his tongue twisted around my mouth and tongue, I reacted. When I flicked my tongue against his, he encouraged me with gentle strokes at first, and as I learned to dance, he became more rough and insistent.

He broke the kiss suddenly and I gasped for air along with him. When he wasn't kissing me I could ignore his hand on my arse and was about to tell him off when he kissed me again, so hard I was sure he'd bruise my lips. He didn't wait for me this time, instead he forced his tongue in my mouth. What else could I do but go along? Or better yet, make him leave my poor mouth alone.

I shoved at his tongue with my own, and when he wouldn't back down, I bit down on his. I was surprised when he moaned happily, and even more so when the moan excited me. Without thinking, I rhythmically bit on his tongue, thrilled to hear small whimpers and moans coming from deep in his throat.

And suddenly I was aware of something hard pressed against my lower stomach, and then I remembered the 'talks' Biyya and I had shared. I swiftly turned my head, causing his lips to press against my cheek.

"No, Altaïr!" I panted, pleased that my voice was much more stern and sincere, "Stop it now!"

"No," he growled and bit the side of my neck, so hard I wouldn't have been surprised if it had bled. I gasped loudly and my knees buckled. He caught me easily and held me against him. Stars danced before my eyes and I couldn't move as he sucked, nibbled and bit my neck. It was too much for me to handle. I let him lead me over to the bed where he pushed me down onto my back and proceeded to kiss me again, though more gently this time.

He propped himself up so he didn't crush me and allowed his hands to flutter over my body, brushing over my breasts, stomach and thighs. I was dizzy again, even though I was laying down.

And then I was aware of him tugging my dress up.

"NO!" I gasped when he sat back to pull it off over my head. I fought him but he won, of course. I crossed my arms over my chest and curled up on my side, not letting him take off my sleeveless shirt. He paused and touched the back of my neck with a calloused hand, leaning down till his lips were by my ear.

"Nadra…" Altaïr whispered, massaging my neck, "Roll over, Nadra."

I shuddered when he said my name like that. So…commanding and…I don't know. Something in his voice made my body say YES! But I still thought NO. My body, however, seemed to overpower my mind and I slowly relaxed. Slipping a hand between my stomach and legs, he slowly moved me into the position I had been. He then kissed me softly and pushed my legs apart a bit. I was about to protest, but then he stroked me between my legs and my brain melted. My breath hitched and I kissed him forcefully. He responded eagerly and rubbed me harder. My body felt warm and I wanted him to never stop.

With his free hand, he pulled my shirt off and I let him take it off to toss it aside. He stopped then and sat back, leaving his one hand between my legs. He cocked his head and smiled as he studied my bare torso. I opened my mouth to say something, but he twirled his thumb in a circle on the sensitive area between my legs and I closed my eyes, my breathing heavy. I heard him chuckle.

His mouth was suddenly against my chest and he trailed kisses along the bone between my breasts. Extracting his hand, he pushed my lower half up a bit and slipped his hands under the waist band of my pants, pulling them off along with my undergarments in one swift move.

I was suddenly completely aware of my nudity.

I sat up and scooted away from him, realizing I was wet between my legs. Biyya had said that would happen when you wanted or needed to…well, you know. I shook my head. I didn't want to…have sex with Altaïr. I hated him. I looked over at him to find the assassin studying me again. Then he started to remove his clothes.

"Altaïr don't," I pleaded, but he ignored me, stripping to his undergarment. He crawled toward me and I tried to move away. He grabbed my ankles and held me still as he moved up to kiss me. I froze again, unable to form a coherent thought as he stroked my tongue with his, gentle as can be.

And then he touched me again.

Only this time it was _much_ more personal because there was no cloth. And it felt much better, even though I didn't think that was possible. I moaned against his mouth as he played with the sensitive folds of skin. When he slipped a finger _inside_ me I gasped loudly and he bit my lip. He began to pull his finger out and I wasn't sure if I was happy or not, but then he pushed it back in, farther this time. I moaned again and squirmed a little underneath him. He growled and kissed his way to my neck, where he literally chewed on the soft skin. I didn't mind all that much though. It felt _wonderful_.

When he pushed a second finger inside me, my body reacted on its own and I bucked my hips. He apparently enjoyed that, for he began to work his fingers in and out, forming a rhythm. I meant to say something but, as if he knew and wanted to silence me, he worked a third finger in. It was barely painful, but it felt so good. I moaned again, not bothering to try to silence it and he moved more quickly, flicking his fingers inside me and hitting a spot somewhere that made me see white.

"Altaïr…" I groaned and he suddenly stopped, moving his hand out. I was confused and almost scolded him, but then I remembered I _wanted_ him to stop. I gasped for air, "Get off me."

Altaïr's response was to kiss me roughly as he lifted his body off me a little bit. I wasn't sure what he was doing until I saw him toss that last bit of clothing off to the side.

Then I really panicked. I tried to push him off but he held me down, using one hand to push my legs apart. I bit down on his lips and tongue but he didn't budge, only bit back, which was bad for me, seeing as I liked it. I tried not to comply but I found myself spreading my legs for him.

And then I felt something at my entrance. Something hard. "No, Altaïr," I moaned against his mouth. A tiny part of me prodded my brain and pointed out the fact that I didn't mean that. I ignored that part, "Please don't."

"Hush, Nadra," he whispered, kissing me very softly and then traced over my nipple with his hand. I gasped and then several things happened at once.

He gripped my right breast with his left hand, he pushed my hips up a bit with his right hand, kissed me very hard, and thrust up into me. I screamed against his mouth at the immediate pain that washed over me. Once he was all the way inside me, he stilled, only moving to massage his lips against mine. The pain was intense, but under that was pleasure.

Very slowly, he pulled out of me and the pain washed over me again. I moaned loudly and when he thrust back into me again I bit back a scream. He began to slowly pull in an out of me as he rubbed my breast, kissing me softly on the lips and neck.

"Altaïr…no…stop…" I said slowly. He growled at me a bit.

"I'm not going to stop, Nadra," he grunted and bit my ear. I gasped and forced myself to talk.

"I wasn't going…to say that," I moaned as he pushed inside me again. He was still holding back though, "I…was gonna say…stop being so…gentle."

Altaïr froze and jerked his head back, staring at me with dark eyes, "What?"

"You're too gentle," I gasped, "I…………"

"What?" his breathing was heavy and the feel of him inside me was unnerving, "Nadra, you're speaking too quietly."

"I like pain, okay!" I finally admitted blushing and laying my head back, trying to catch my breath. Altaïr was silent and still for a while.

"Dammit!" I cried out, finally angry. I reached up and tangled my hands in his messy hair. Pulling him down to me, I kissed him roughly, biting his lips until he opened his mouth. Our tongues danced together and he finally snapped out of it.

"Fine," he growled after pulling back for air, "You want rough, great."

I shushed him and pulled him down for another passionate kiss. The next time he thrust into me, he didn't hold back and went much deeper than before. I screamed, but not in pain. He moved around and found purchase on the foot of the bed, using it to help push himself deeper inside of me. Finding a rhythm, he kissed his way down my neck to the muscle on my shoulder again, where he bit me hard, massaging my breast at the same time.

Going on instinct, I bucked my hips up and soon learned how to meet him just as he thrust into me. Working together, a spot was touched inside me that caused my vision to blur with pleasure. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and begged for him to go faster and harder. He complied and soon I lost sense of the rhythm, and everything. I was vaguely aware of him breaking out of the rhythm as well, and just thrusting his hard member into me as quickly as possible.

Then everything exploded around me and I went numb, calling out Altaïr's name. Soon after that Altaïr moaned my own name and with one final thrust, he flowed into me. It was the oddest sensation, but I liked it. He rolled off to the side and collapsed. We both lay for a moment, nothing but the sound of our heavy breathing filling the air. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist and shoulders, pulling me against him, my back to his chest. I closed my eyes and settled against him, the pleasure of what just happened throbbing around my body and mind.

I fell asleep to Altaïr murmuring into my hair, "Nadra…my Nadra…"

* * *

_A/N: -taps fingers together- Um…wow. I guess I was…in a mood when I wrote this. –eyes grow wide- Am I a bad person?_

_R&R please…_


	11. Chapter 11

_Okay, so here I am again. Gosh I hate myself for saving over the original, well, second original chapter 11. I think I'm cursed with it. See, the first time I wrote Ch 11 I password protected and, of course, forgot the password. So then I started over again, hoping I put everything in it that I had earlier. It was awesome and I was so ready to post it, but I couldn't at the times. So I started on Chapter 12. As I said, work called me and I panicked and saved Ch12 over Ch11. And so here we are. I pray to the good Lord that this is alright and good and all that, considering I've left you all hanging for…a while. Which I'm very sorry about. I made the mistake of telling my boss(es) that I could work more over the summer, so that's most of what I've been doing. That and working on our pool and hanging with demanding friends._

_So here we are, with the next installment of If Life Was Fair. :)_

**Disclaimer: I have it! I know how to get Altaïr!! I will lure him to me with a fake contract to assassinate someone, and when he gets near enough…BAM! Mine in a cage!! Bwahahahaha!! …Yeah right, I wish.**

* * *

**Slap in the Face**

When I woke I was extremely disoriented. My brain felt fuzzy and nothing was familiar. The dark stone walls and floor seemed foreboding and the hard bed was not what I was used to. There weren't enough covers on me to keep me warm, even with the heat of the arm around my waist and body pressed against my bare back.

Hold it.

Arm? Body? I'm naked? I quickly rolled over and grimaced as pain washed over most of my lower body. When my vision straightened out, I was looking at the slumbering face of Altaïr. The occurrences of the previous night flooded my mind and I gasped audibly.

"You asshole!" I cried out, shoving the assassin away from me with as much strength as possible. He sat up immediately, the sheets pooling dangerously low around his lap.

"What?" he asked with lazy, yet alert eyes.

"You made me…argh!" I rolled over to the edge of the bed, doing my best to ignore the pain, and stood.

At least that's what I told my body to do. In reality I swayed upward and then fell to the ground with a cry of agony. My legs wouldn't even work correctly because of the pain and discomfort. Altaïr's feet suddenly appeared in my line of vision. "Nadra," he sighed, "What are you doing?"

"I can't stand, you…" I glared up at him and trailed off as my eyes fell upon his 'manhood'. I looked away quickly and curled up in a little ball, embarrassed. No wonder I hurt so much. I heard the assassin sigh again before moving away. When I next looked up he was over by the table, pulling on his clothes. I scowled and looked around, finding my own clothes in a chaotic pile in the corner.

I had just started pulling my way over to them when I felt something crusty on the inside of my thighs. I looked down and gasped. Blood.

"Don't worry Nadra, that happens the first time a woman lays with a man." I stared up at Altaïr with wide eyes. He was holding a thick blanket for some reason.

"Oh my…what if I'm pregnant?" I whispered.

"You won't be. Stop worrying," he sighed angrily before bending over and wrapping the blanket around me, pulling me up into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I asked hastily, wincing at the movement as he walked us down the halls, "And what do you mean stop worrying?"

He ignored me, however, so I just closed my eyes for a few seconds. I couldn't let my anger get the best of me. When I opened my eyes I noticed that, of course, we weren't the only people in the fortress. My heart almost stopped as several people passed us, nodding a greeting before moving on.

"OhmyGod Altaïr," I gripped the front of his robe.

"What is it now?"

"These people…" I closed my eyes again and forced myself to slow my breathing. Hyperventilation would not be good. When I was a bit more calm I opened my eyes and tried again, "They will assume the worst when they see us."

"They don't have to assume," he replied dryly, kicking open a door and setting me down on a cushioned chair.

"…W-what?" I watched him turn a switch by a large tub, causing steaming water to pour out of a spout. Despite the heat in the room, I felt my entire body go icy numb. Altaïr smirked at me.

"You were loud enough last night that the entire fortress knows what happened."

"Please tell me you're lying," I groaned. He shook his head and moved toward me, grabbing for the blanket. I clutched it close to me and glared at him, "What do you think you're doing?"

Dark eyebrows rose in surprise, "Well I thought it was obvious," he said blandly, "seeing as you can't function properly right now."

"No, I…" Not sure what to say, I frowned at him. With a sigh he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Come, Nadra," he murmured, sending chills down my spine as his lips brushed against my sensitive skin, "I've already seen you unclothed."

When he leaned back with a wicked grin I shook my head to rid myself of the sudden memories of the previous night. Then a realization came to me.

"That's it, I'm going to hell."

"So am I," Altaïr said with a chuckle, pulling me out of the chair and removing the blanket, "But why do you think you are?"

I sighed and let him start to clean me, seeing as it would probably be the only nice thing the selfish assassin would ever do or offer. "Because," I groaned, "I had unmarried sex. AND I technically committed adultery."

"Well," he said slowly, helping me out of the tub when I was all clean, "You were forced into that marriage."

I tested my legs and found I could stand alright, though I swayed a lot. Wrapping the large towel around me I looked up at him seriously, "That's not all I've been forced into doing."

"Oh hush, Nadra, you know you wanted it," he said after a few silent moments, turning to a table behind him that I hadn't noticed earlier. On it was a tiny plate of leaves and a pile of clothes. He handed me the leaves without looking at me, "Eat these. They'll keep you from becoming pregnant."

I chewed on the bitter leaves and kept my gaze downcast, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Get dressed in these clothes," I heard him say. I looked up to reply but he was already leaving, not even sparing a glance in my direction. I frowned and swallowed before shuffling over to the clothes, finding undergarments, pants and a shirt. I sighed.

"No shoes for me today…"

After five minutes of struggling I finally was dressed and, since I didn't know where to go exactly, I hobbled down random hallways and flights of stairs, assuming I'd run into someone who could tell me what to do. Soon enough I came across a short, muscular man with light brown hair and black eyes.

"You must be Lamya!" he cried out, rushing across the hall to shake my hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you! My name is Ta'ilam. How are you?"

"I'm great," I lied, smiling down on the strange man. He had to be no more than five feet tall. "What about you?"

"Where are your shoes?" he asked suddenly, ignoring my question. I laughed nervously.

"I don't know."

"Well, I'll get you some and then you can start your training. Follow me!" Without waiting for a reply or even looking to see if I followed, Ta'ilam bounded down the hall with the energy of a five year old. All I could do was wonder.

What training?

* * *

"No way. I can't do this," I said stubbornly, refusing to move from my comfortable sitting position on the hard ground. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at the lean, dark haired man standing before me.

"Lamya," he said sternly, dark green eyes flashing. He crossed his arms over his own chest, mocking me.

"Mular," I mocked back, cocking my head to the side.

"Come now, we've all heard what a wonderful archer you are," he grinned, "prove it."

"I can hardly stand, let a lone fire an arrow accurately," I snapped, waving my hand at the targets lined up neatly several yards away.

"A rough night in bed isn't an excuse." He said seriously. My face paled and he laughed, "Yes, I know what happened."

"That jerk! He didn't even listen to me!" I growled, slowly getting to my feet, not meeting his eyes so I wouldn't feel like I was lying about the next part, "I didn't even want to."

"That doesn't matter," Mular said offhandedly. I blinked up at him, swaying on my unsteady feet.

"What do you mean?" I asked in shock.

"Altaïr always gets what he wants," he shook his head with a smile and picked up a long bow. I stared at him in horror.

"Take it as a compliment, Lamya," Mular said almost sadly, "Altaïr doesn't want women very often. It's rare that he's attracted to someone. Take the bow."

I frowned and took the nicely made weapon, hobbling over to the marker, "But Altaïr hates me. Do I have to do this?"

"So? You're beautiful, but that doesn't mean he likes you," he shrugged as if it were so simple. I was too angry and confused to notice the compliment. He grinned, handing me an arrow, "And yes you do. Enemies will not go easy if you yourself are injured."

I muttered oaths under my breath and lined up the best I could, aiming and firing recklessly, missing the target by a few feet. "See!" I cried, already frustrated, "I can't do this!"

Mular handed me another arrow, "You'd better learn how to."

"Or what?" I looked at him incredulously.

"You sleep out here tonight." I waited for him to laugh at his own joke, but when he didn't I sighed and took the arrow, already knowing it would take me forever.

Indeed, two and a half hours later I finally got a break and wasn't too much better, though the pain from the night before was fading.

"Why do I have to do this?" I panted after draining almost an entire pitcher of water. It was _way_ too hot for any of this.

"Look where you are, Lamya," Mular said in a lazy voice from his reclined position against a nearby boulder. "You're with a league of assassins. Not the safest place to be. You must be prepared for an attack at any time."

I sighed and laid back in the shade of the small tree, staring up at the blue sky through the still leaves. Just one breeze is all I ask for…I rolled on my side and looked at him, still frowning. Why does it seem like I've been doing that so much lately? "But I've never had problems standing or balancing before," I pointed out, "And it's not going to happen again, so why can't we just wait till tomorrow when I'll feel better."

"Because you never know what will happen," he smiled, getting to his feet and stretching, "Break's over, let's go."

"Yes, O Great Archery Master," I muttered with great sarcasm, pushing myself to my feet and wincing. When would the surprises and pain end?

* * *

_A/N: Wow, so I know I ended the first one completely different and I think it was longer, but oh well. I think this was pretty good. My wording and descriptions certainly got a bit better after writing this chapter THREE TIMES. Heh. But yeah, I also wanted to point out that the one guy in _Don't Mess with the Zohan_ looks like Desmond/Altaïr. The one who works at the electronics store and then plays Hackie Cat with Zohan at the nerd's house. I just thought that was kinda cool. Was like, Duuuuude…Desy/Alty…weird…lol. _

_ANYWAY, hope you like this, chapter twelve will be up next week. Hopefully. XD Love ya guys! You readers make me!_


	12. Chapter 12

HOLY CRAP just kidding before bed I randomly looked at my files to see if I'd left an outline cause I couldn't remember if I'd made one, and chapter 12 is finished! Well yeee dawgy in the words of a southerner. Sort of. Anway, it was written a while ago but it is how I want it. Sorry if there are lots of typos, I don't think I have a Beta reader for this story so...it's me editing...which doesn't works sometimes...yeah....

_A/N: Okay, I'll already apologize for such a short chapter, but I just had a good feeling about ending it there. I personally find this little chapter hilarious, but that's just me. And I feel bad for saying I molded Lamya/Nadra after me, cause you see a bit of her worst side here, for she, like me, has a bit of an anger problem. XD Anyway, please enjoy and leave reviews!!!_

**Disclamer: -opens letter from Altaïr- Awww….he says I can't own him…dang it…**

**Tension**

It had been almost a month since I started training and Altaïr hadn't said one word to me. Even when we literally bumped into each other in the halls or town. I didn't understand what was going on with him. The first few times I tried to start a conversation but he'd always just nod his head or ignore me. He wouldn't even look at me!

Not that it bothered me.

I was just a bit confused, and wondered if I'd done something wrong. Though I guess I should have known he would behave like a child, seeing as he's an immature jerky asshole.

I took a deep breath and paused as I ascended the stairs, trying not to get extremely angry. Again.

"Lamya!" a man called from behind me. I turned slowly, letting my slight fury drain away, to find Mular standing a few steps behind me.

"Hi Mular," I said tiredly.

"Come fight me," he demanded, closing the remaining distance between us.

"Why?" I groaned playfully, "I just got done beating you at archery, do I _have_ to stomp your face into the ground to get you to lay off?"

"Aw, c'mon," He punched my arm lightly, "You know I'm better than you at hand-to-hand."

"Whatever," I said, punching him back and grinning, "I'm getting better."

"True," he said, pushing his dark brown locks out of his eyes, "You learn quickly. You should take up sword fighting."

"No," I said sternly, descending the flight of stairs, not really caring either way if he followed.

"Why?"

"Because," I called over my shoulder, "I don't like blades."

"Why is that?" he asked again. I whirled around, hoping to catch him off guard. He blinked lazily at me. It's pretty much impossible to surprise the people around here.

I almost told him about how ever since that horrible woman who pretended to be my mother killed Biyya, I'd hated swords and anything dagger-like. But not a lot of people here knew exactly what had happened to me, and I liked it that way. So instead I told him a generalization.

"Because most people who use blades are cowards and fools."

"Well…" Mular frowned, probably trying to figure out the deeper meaning to what I'd said. I sighed and turned away, making my way to the little fighting ring in the center of the courtyard. It was currently vacant, seeing as it was well into the night. Before vaulting over the railing, I grabbed a small pair of gloves from one of the chests against the far wall.

"Ready?" I asked blandly after equipping the padded gloves. Mular walked slowly towards me, adjusting his own gloves.

"You know, considering I'm the one who always asks you to fight," he said calmly, stopping a few feet from me, "I always feel bad about hitting a woman."

I winked at him, "Yeah, me too."

That _did_ catch him off guard. I laughed at his stunned expression. Which of course was a mistake. You see, though he isn't among the strongest men in Masayef, Mular is very fast. So I wasn't able to counter the swift punch to the jaw and foot sweep, and before I knew it I was on the ground with a throbbing face and butt.

Mular's face appeared above mine, "Do I need to literally step on your pretty face or can we just say I stomped it?"

I smirked at him and didn't reply. Instead, I quickly grabbed him around the neck and pushed with my feet against his stomach, flipping him backwards over my head. We tumbled a bit and I ended up on top of him, pinning his legs and arms with mine.

"Now what, genius?" he laughed.

"I'm working on that," I grunted, trying to hold him down.

"Watch this," he grinned. I frowned, confused, and then he pushed up with his pelvis, throwing me forward. I automatically caught myself with my hands on the ground beside his head. Before I could recover he grabbed my right wrist with his right hand and pushed with a good amount of strength against my side with his left elbow. We flipped over and before I knew it I was on my back with both my arms pinned above my head by his right. He had both my legs secured between his, though I have no clue how he did that.

"WOW that was awesome!" I cried, still trying to figure out and remember exactly what he had done.

"You lose," he grinned from a few inches above me, gripping my throat with his fingers.

"Mular."

We both turned our heads, trying to see from our awkward position who was speaking. It was dark so it took a while for me to see Altaïr at the edge of the fighting ring. My blood ran cold and I decided that instead of yelling at him, I'd use my anger to fight, taking advantage of Mular's distraction.

I headbutted him and, when he recoiled, jerked my wrists from his grip. I brought the heel of my hand up under his jaw simultaneously with my knees, bringing them straight up. He yelped and fell back off of me and I quickly spun around swinging my heel in an arch down onto his back. He collapsed on his chest and I gently placed my foot on his head.

"You lose," I laughed, out of breath, before stepping back and helping him up. I stayed where I was as he made his way over to Altaïr. After a few seconds he ran back over to me, handing me his gloves.

"Al Mualim wants to speak with me and has apparently been searching for me for a while, so I'll be right back. It shouldn't take long," He ruffled my hair before sprinting off, easily launching himself over the rail. I rolled my eyes and then felt very strange after he was gone.

Altaïr was just standing there, watching me. I raised an eyebrow in his general direction and he leaned against the railing, "It seems like you've become quite comfortable around Mular."

My back stiffened, "We were fighting," I pointed out, "Training. You know we aren't the best around here in close, hand-to-hand combat."

"Yes, but this late at night?" he cocked his head to the side, "Will you take to his bed next?"

I gripped Mular's gloves tightly and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths while I counted to ten. When I opened my eyes again Altaïr hadn't moved. "What is your problem with me, Altaïr?" I asked sharply, "You've been even more of a jackass these past few weeks than ever."

"I have no problem," he said calmly.

"Liar," I snapped, "But since you're going to be immature and not talk about what I did to anger you, I'm not going to ask ever again. I don't care anyway."

"What makes you think _you_ did something wrong, hm?" he growled, "Why do you think everything is about you?"

"HA!" I marched over to him and poked him in the chest, "You are such an idiot! I can't believe you're trying to turn this around and guilt me! The only reason you said that is because you are so egotistical and believe you can do nothing wrong! Well guess what, you can. You're just as human as the rest of us."

He leaned back a bit and studied me, several emotions flashing across his face; anger, morose, frustration, annoyance, and guilt. And I guess my little rant triggered something in him, for his eyes turned ice cold. "You don't understand anything I do, Lamya, so do not try to chastise me."

I actually flinched when he used my first name, like a child who was in trouble. I guess I'd truly gotten used to him calling me Nadra. I sighed angrily, "I'm not chastising you, I'm speaking the truth, which you need to learn."

"No, you need to learn to mind your own business," he growled back.

"What?!" I threw my arms up, "What are you talking about?! How am I not minding my business?"

"You were asking me what my problem was." He said in a condescending tone. I glared at him.

"Of course, because you obviously have a problem with me," I wanted so badly to punch him, "Ever since that morning in the bathroom you've behaved differently towards me!"

"No I haven't," He said stubbornly.

"Liar!" It was seriously taking all of my self-control not to deck him as hard as I could. Taking deep breathes I looked away from him, my hands shaking in anger.

"You're so ignorant and blind to think I am lying about this," I heard him say quietly.

"Back up or I'm going to hit you," I said calmly, still not looking at him. He didn't move, so I did, backing up to the center of the ring. I dropped the gloves on the ground and sat down, rubbing my temples. I was about to tell him to leave when I heard footsteps approaching.

"Al Mualim is asleep," Mular said. I glanced up to see him slow as he approached us, glancing between Altaïr and me with a frown. "What happened? Did I hear yelling?"

"Hm, he must have given up. We were looking for you for quite a while," Altaïr said calmly, completely ignoring Mular's other questions. He brushed past the younger man, "Just make sure you go see him in the morning."

I glared at his back as he walked up the dirt path to the fortress, not even noticing when Mular jumped the fence and sat down next to me. "Wow," he murmured, "There's a bit of tension between the two of you."

"Of course," I sighed, looking down at the gloves gripped in my hands. I was sure under my own gloves my knuckles were white, "He makes me so angry, I wish he'd just leave me alone."

"No you don't."

My gaze snapped up to Mular's face, "What are you talking about, I hate him."

He smiled sadly, "No you don't. You hate how he treats you. And I wasn't talking about that sort of tension. I was talking about sexual tension."

I punched him in the face.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-


	13. Please forgive me, my loves!

HELLLLOOOO!

I'm SO sorry to all my readers that I disappeared for a year or so or whatever! I feel so bad, but college hit me head on, and thought sometimes I tried, I just haven't been able to write well. However, this last week or so I found my stories and read almost all of them again, including this one (which I forgot how much I loooove) and I'm ready to write again! I can feel it in my bones.

I've started a new game on Assassin's Creed to assist with inspiration for writing this story. I also have some great ideas for the upcoming chapters and I'm going to try REALLY hard to get the next chapter of this up by Sunday or next Monday night. I have fall break starting Thursday, so hopefully that will give me plenty of time to get at least one chapter finished, if not two. I hope you guys aren't too upset with me! LOVE YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!

3 You'll be hearing from me soon! :D

Genie


	14. Chapter 13

_A/N: Hellllooooo! Next chapter yay! Kinda long, might be a bit serious for some, but I really feel as if I'm on to something great. Once this chapter is out of the way they rest should start to flow smoothly and quickly. I think the toughest part of this chapter was coming up with a title hahaha! Hope you enjoy! I love to hear from you! :-)_

_Also, I want to give a massive shout out to the "anonymous" **Heather** for the recent support! Wish I could PM you, thanks so much!_

**DISCLAIMER: I will never own the sexiness that is Altaïr, nor the amazingessicity that is Assassin's Creed. *SIGH*

* * *

**

**Into Hands**

I broke Mular's nose. Badly.

So for the next three or four weeks I followed him around, blubbering my apologies and trying to make it up to him. He, of course, just laughed and complimented me on my strength. I, in turn, was disappointed in myself. I hated that I let my anger get out of control. It had just infuriated me when Mular suggested there was sexual tension between Altaïr and me. I know I never want to share a bed with that idiot assassin again.

"Lamya, if you apologize to me again, I'm going to break _your_ nose," Mular growled as I followed him out of the dining hall.

"You do realize that's about the seventh time you said that," I pointed out, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. He paused just outside his bedroom door and turned to face me. His now crooked nose had somehow made him more attractive and the dark bruises under his eyes had just finished fading.

"Yes, I suppose it is," he sighed, "I'm sorry, I guess I just couldn't harm you without probable cause."

"I broke your nose," I said dryly, crossing my arms over my chest and raising and eyebrow, "and why are you the one apologizing, I'm the one who should—"

He cut me off by placing a hand over my mouth. "Please, Lamya," He whispered, "Do not say you are sorry. If I needed your apologies I would demand them of you. That's who I am; I tell it how it is. And so I truly mean it when I say it doesn't matter. I'm honestly impressed with your strength, though you definitely need to work on your temper control."

"So I've been told…" I muttered, scuffing the toe of my boot on the stone floor, staring down. I sighed and looked back up at him. "Please, if you do think of a way for me to make it up to you, let me know. I'll do anything."

Something flashed in his eyes and he started to grin, leaning back against the door-frame. "Well…you could always join me in my quarters tonight and we can…discuss it…" A raised eyebrow and a wink gave away he didn't mean discuss in the traditional meaning.

"MULAR!" I exclaimed, only slightly horrified but I played it up. He laughed at me and ruffled my hair.

"I was only kidding," he gave me a tired smile and nodded before slipping into his room and closing the door. The bolt sliding home was eerily audible. I shrugged and wandered down the hall, wondering what I could do with the rest of my evening. I wasn't tired enough to go back to my quarters and sleep, I'd had the day off and accidentally slept nearly to noon.

With a sigh I left the stronghold to walk around the town, hoping to find some form of entertainment within. Sure, there was a great place to go get a drink and sing with all the drunks, but I didn't want to do that for a while. The other night I'd had too much to drink and woke up feeling like a horse had stomped on my head. So I was avoiding alcohol at the moment.

I made my way to the front gates and paused, smiling to the four guards, or assassins really. A few of them smiled, recognizing me from the other night's shenanigans. I had recently been given permission to go a bit outside the town walls, seeing as in almost two months Ghalib hadn't tried anything stupid. So with a nod to the men I walked past the gates and over to the stable where the horses were tied up.

"Good evening, Gi'hal, I greeted the stable hand who dozed by the door.

"Hrmf," the old mad looked up at me from under long grey locks with dark eyes. He stood and stretched his thin limbs, straightening his brown robes as he did so. "How are you this evening, Miss Lamya?"

"I'm…perplexed," I said, then paused, "Well I don't know if that's the proper term. I feel quite befuddled with what's going on with my life right now, and I feel useless which is frustrating."

"Well, my dear, as I always say, a good ride clears the mind," He smiled, flashing a toothless grin. God only knows how old he is, but he's the sweetest man I've ever met. He grunted and jerked a thumb towards the interior of the stables, "I would offer to help you with the horses, but they like you just as much as me, if not more, hahaha!"

"They will never love me as much as their Abi," I said with a grin before clapping him lightly on the shoulder and making my way to the stable containing my favorite riding companion; a dapple grey mare named Isha. Throughout the duration of grooming and saddling her up, I talked softly to her to give comfort. She was the best mount for night riding, but many horses do not enjoy being out after dark. I think it's the whole "prey animal" thing. Regardless, I knew once we got going she'd be happy.

I rode away from town a bit, taking the main path for a while, letting Isa get comfortable with the bridle and the night. Once she started prancing about in her happy little manner, I pushed her into the gallop I knew she wanted. I let her run for several minutes until she slowed on her own accord. Only then did I lead her off the path to a large patch of grass that stopped at the edge of a plummeting cliff. I dismounted and removed the bridle, telling Isha to stay nearby before walking to the edge of the cliff and sitting down.

With an exasperated sigh I looked out over the land sprawled before me. Something needed to change. Ghalib had to be up to something, but was somehow keeping it quiet. I knew there were members of the brotherhood in Jerusalem constantly, working their best with contacts or whatever methods they can muster up to get information, but nothing so far had surfaced. There had to be some way to shake the foundation on which Ghalib and my father stood. For some reason my people, for they were still _my _people, look up to my father and his illusions. And I was sure that in the few short months that had passes since my disappearance father had already put Ghalib into a good light.

I needed them to second guess their leaders. I need them to remember me. Perhaps if my father or Ghalib were caught in a scandal the people would stop being so trustworthy. Or…the scandal of someone they both trusted and encouraged the people of Jerusalem to follow…yeah. That could work.

"Now what could it be, Isha," I murmured to the mare who nickered softly behind me. What did I already know…

"That's it!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. Isha snorted behind me and stomped a foot. I spun around and quickly fixed the bridle back onto the mare and swung up into the saddle, riding at a full canter back to Masayaf. My loud entrance to the stable yard roused Gi'hal from his nap, and since he was already up I tossed the reins to him and promised to make it up to him later with extra help.

I ran through the town as quickly as possible, winding my way through the streets and up the many hills. A couple times I nearly crashed into the few people left milling about, but I made it back unscathed. I didn't stop until I was inside near the halls that lead to Al Mualim's chambers.

"Hi! Sorry I'm so late," I greeted the four guards in their immaculately white uniforms. They stared at me silently with dark eyes. Creepy. "Anyway…is Al Mualim still awake? I have an important proposition he will be quite intrigued to hear."

"My apologies miss," one of them said, "but he retired early tonight. He has a meeting early in the morning, so if you want to speak to him, you must see him before the meeting."

"Great," I frowned.

"Well," the eldest guard spoke up. He was tall and lean with grey spackled black hair and brown eyes. I knew his name, I think, but at the moment it escaped me. He continued, "I will speak with Al Mualim, and since I believe the meeting is in reference to your home city, you should be able to at least sit in on the meeting. I'm not sure how long the discussion will go on, but you should get the opportunity to tell your news and be a part of the meeting."

"Splendid!" I clapped my hands together, "What time is the meeting to occur?"

"An hour after dawn," He replied.

"Wonderful," I commented with fake enthusiasm, "I'll be there, and hopefully be able to join."

They guards nodded to me and I left, returning to my room. I quickly stripped off my clothes and crawled into bed. Recently I'd taken to sleeping in nothing but my undergarments. After locking the door, of course. It was just so hot and I enjoyed the feel of the cool sheet against my skin. I curled up in a ball on my side and let exhaustion over take me.

* * *

We sat in the courtyard within the fortress, our various chairs, stools and cushions positioned in a rough semi-circle at the edge of the garden under the trees and blossoms. The water could be heard crashing against the cliff, so far below. Al Mualim sat in his own bench with pillows, perched before the fountain. We had formed our half-circle to face him to listen as he spoke. Several of the men had protested to my presence but Al Mualim seemed amused.

"So," Al Mualim started, rising slowly to his feet to pace, our eyes following his every move, "it is imperative that we find a way through the dense forest that is Muhammed Afzal I'timad's and Ghalib Amir's social armor. Our people, some of them being among us now, have been able to uncover a few, somewhat useful facts against them, but it is still unknown to us what exactly they are planning and the information they have on us. I have called this meeting because we need a new plan of action. Because we have tried using stealth, trickery and sources, I propose we attempt a new approach; the army."

"What...do you mean, sir," Altaïr spoke up, sounding angry. I was surprised to see him here; he'd been gone in Damascus for weeks. Not that I cared.

"I mean we attack the army. NOT directly," Al Mualim responded, holding his hand up for silence when everyone burst into loud protests. "We should attack their rations, their shelter. Find ways to disturb their rest. I know this isn't a definite solution, but I think it will be a big step. It may even be possible to collapse the army."

The men began to murmur amongst themselves, some nodding in approval. Are they really that stupid? I know they're desperate but seriously?

"It won't work," I said softly.

"What did you say, Miss Lamya?" Al Mualim turned to me, an intrigued spark in his eyes. I had a feeling the same guard from last night had indicated I would speak up. I cleared my throat, suddenly nervous.

"It won't work," I said louder.

"How the hell would you know?" Altaïr spat.

"Silence, Altaïr," Al Mualim commanded with a glare at said assassin. He then nodded in my direction for me to continue.

"Well…none of you know my father as I do." I looked around at everyone and ended up with my gaze on Al Mualim, "Since I was young enough to understand politics, and trust me when I say I was quite young, I made sure to pay attention to everything that was going on; including matters that included the army. The defense of the city, after all, is vital. My father knows that and has always done his best to keep the army as fit as possible, in every way. When I was…probably seven or eight, an enemy of my father tried the exact thing. It worked."

I took a deep breath and slowly rose to my feet, "But you _must_ understand how clever my father can be. He has perfected methods over the past ten years to prevent such an occurrence from ever happening again, and it's fool-proof. You'll only waste time, energy and probably lose a man or two in the process. What you need, is someone trustworthy on the inside."

"Yes, well we don't _have_ that," Altaïr sneered. He was really starting to get on my nerves. I turned to him with a wicked smile. Somewhere along the way my nerves had cooled down and I was returning to the political woman I'd strove to be for so long.

"But of course you do; me," I turned back to Al Mualim, "I have contacts in all cities. Many, if not all, are quite supportive of my endeavors. I have taken care over the years to make sure I have a strong personal relationship with each and every one of these men and women. Also, several of these contacts are indebted to me, meaning they owe me one or more favors, which I have yet to call for repayment. There is a woman in Acre, whose name I will not reveal quite yet, whom I believe to have the ability to help me and, in turn the brotherhood, with this particular mission."

"And what does your plan involve, dear," Al Mualim smiled at me, amused. He didn't seem to be taking me seriously. I gazed at him levelly, my back straight and head held high.

"There is a man living in Jerusalem who is held in high esteem by Ghalib and Muhammed. For some reason unknown to us at this point, my people follow my father's every move, and apparently now Ghalib's. Because this man is portrayed to be such a holy and wonderful person, the people trust him. This is not a war, yet, Al Mualim," I took a step towards him with a heated stare, "Right now, this is all about political savvy, which I have in abundance. If a scandal is revealed, and not in either of our targets' favor, then the people of Jerusalem will stop trusting them and then they _start talking_. Gossip is the downfall of all great men."

I whirled back to face the group of men, now silent and watching me. I moved to the side and clasped my hands behind my back, probably looking more like a man than a woman in my short black tunic and red pants, "I propose that I go undercover in a major household in Jerusalem. Once there, parading as a simple servant or maid, I can work my way into the trust of the Lord and Lady of the house. After a solid relationship has been established, I will be able to expose the Lady as the adulterer she is, thus showing the man revered by Jerusalem as the liar he truly is. This will shake the foundation of the city's society to the core, therefore beginning the destruction of trust."

Everyone was silent for a few seconds. I glanced at Al Mualim, who was looking at me as if I'd finally done something interesting.

"No," someone said. I recognized the voice and turned back to see Altaïr sitting with his elbows on his spread knees, fingers pressed together as if praying. The hood of his eyes hid his eyes, and his hands covered his mouth and most of his nose.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, no," he repeated.

"You have no say in this," I nearly growled, "Al Mualim is the only one who has the right to determine what will take place."

"It's foolish," Altaïr replied, obviously through clenched teeth. "You will be captured and then everything will be spoiled. Keep your childish whims to yourself."

"Hold your tongue, Altaïr," my voice was rising with my anger. "You know nothing about my world and how to win this; I do."

"He raises a valid point, though, Lamya," Mular spoke up with a frown, "It seems dangerous for you to be so near to those who know and are searching for you."

I smiled at Mular, not as sweetly as I probably should have, "The first point I will make, is that they will not be looking for me in Jerusalem. They may have within the first two weeks of my disappearance, but since my father knows his people are loyal to him, he knows they would return me to him. So he is most likely searching in other cities and small settlements. The second point is that my appearance has changed greatly since being here. I was never the typical princess, constantly being pampered with oils and lotions, but before leaving I still had soft hands, I wasn't allowed out without my skin, face and hair being covered. Since coming to Masayaf, I have been able to cast aside those niceties and actually work, as I've wanted all my life. My hands are rougher, my hair has lightened substantially and my skin is darker and not as…creamy, pure, however you want to say it. You do not see this because you didn't know me before, but I did, and I see the change. I can easily cut my hair much shorter and in an unflattering fashion. No one actually knows my face besides my immediate family, and posing as a new servant girl, I will never travel to the palace."

"You can't just march in there and expect to get a job," a man named Kazeem said.

"I know that. The contact that I have in Acre, the one I mentioned earlier, is very close to me and owes me such a large favor that if I ask her to lie for me, to give a recommendation, that I will without doubt get the job. She has a great reputation and many ladies of nearby cities know her name and it would be a dream come true to have an actual conversation with her. I also know that she would not breathe a word of my return; she trusts my judgment too much and she despises my father." I turned back to Al Mualim. "Sir, this _will_ work. It will not be a quick process, but as I stated earlier, this is not a physical war, not yet."

"She's right," Mular sighed. I turned slightly to nod my thanks of his approval. He was studying me with a guarded expression.

"Are you out of your minds?" Altaïr hissed. He had barely moved since I began my speech. "This is crazy. She's talking like a lunatic."

"Silence, Altaïr," Al Mualim commanded in his booming voice. We all looked at him expectantly; I moved back towards my stool. "I do not recall asking for your opinion. I find Lamya's plan to have significant merit."

"So, does that mean you agree and will allow me to carry out the plan?" I held my breath in anticipation.

"Yes. I think it will work well," Al Mualim smiled and sat down. Finally. _Finally_ I'd be able to contribute and help. I tried not to grin too much as I returned to my seat.

"Thank you sir," I bowed from the waste.

"But," he held up a hand. I paused, half way to being seated, "before you leave you must be able to handle yourself. I understand you are a great archer and fairly good at hand-to-hand, however you must be better at both."

I straightened and nodded, "Of course."

"And," he continued, "You must be able to wield a blade. I will not have members of this Brotherhood embarking on missions without being fully able to care for themselves. That being said, your training will change to include lessons with a long sword, short sword, dagger and throwing knives."

Oh…crap…

* * *

_A/N: SO? What do you think? I've decided I'm going to make this story MUCH longer than I initially intended, and I'm excited to get started. I know this chapter may be kind of boring, but it is the predecessor to a great storyline that should really be interesting. Loves ya! 3_


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